

Washington Irving, 



36143 

Library of Congreee 

Two Copies Received 
AUG 18 1900 

Copynght ontry 

SECOND COPY. 

Delivered to 

ORDER DIVISION, 
AU6 25 1900 



,pa,^oSl 



Copyright, 1900, by W. B. Conkey Company. 



68743 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE,. 

The Hall. . . .^ 5 

The Busy Man g 

Family Servants. !%> 

The Widow 25 

The Lovers , . . 3a 

Family Reliques 35 

An Old Soldier : 42 

The Widow's Retinue 47 

Ready-Money Jack 52 

Bachelors 5^ 

A Literary Antiquary 64 

The Farm-House 7a 

Horsemanship 78 

Love^ymptoms. 84 

FSfconry , 88 

Hawking 94 

Fortune-Telling 103 

Love-Charms no 

A Bachelor's Confessions 116 

Gypsies 121 

Village Worthies 128 

The Schoolmaster 132 

The School 139 

A Village Politician i44 

The Rookery 150 

May-Day 160 

The Culprit i73 

Loversl TrjMibles. 183 

The Wedding 190 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



THE HALL. 

The ancientest house, and the best for housekeeping in 
this county or the next, and though the master of 
it write but squire, I know no lord like him. 

— Merry Beggars. 

The reader, if he has perused the volumes of 
the Sketch Book, will probably recollect some- 
thing of the Bracebridge family, with which I 
once passed a Christinas. I am now on 
another visit at the Hall, having been invited 
to a wedding which is shortly to take place. 
The squire's second son, Guy, a fine, spirited 
young captain in the army, is about to be 
married to his father's ward, the fair Julia 
Templeton. A gathering of relations and 
friends has already comm-enced, to celebrate 
the joyful occasion; for the old gentleman is 
an enemy to quiet, private weddings. "There 
is nothing," he says, "like launching a young 
couple gayly, and cheering them from the 
shore ; a good outset is half the voyage. ' ' 

Before proceeding any farther, I would beg 
that the squire might not be confounded with 
that class of hard-riding, fox-hunting gentle- 
men so often described, and, in fact, so nearly 
extinct in England. I use this rural title, 
partly because it is his universal appellation 

5 



6 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

throughout the neighborhood, and partly 
because it saves me the frequent repetition of 
his name, which is one of those rough old 
English names at which Frenchmen exclaim 
in despair. 

The squire is, in fact, a lingering specimen 
of the old English country gentlemen; rusti- 
cated a little by living almost entirely on his 
estate, and something of a humorist, as English- 
men are apt to become when they have an 
opportunity of living in their own way. I like 
his hobby passing well, however, which is, a 
bigoted devotion to old English manners and 
customs; it jumps a little with my own humor, 
having as yet a lively and unsated curiosity 
about the ancient and genuine characteristics 
of my "fatherland. " 

There are some traits about the squire's 
family also, which appear to me to be national. 
It is one of those old aristocratical families, 
which, I believe, are peculiar to England, and 
scarcely understood in other countries ; this is 
to say, families of the ancient gentry, who, 
though destitute of titled rank, maintain a high 
ancestral pride; who look down upon all 
nobility of recent creation, and would consider 
it a sacifice of dignity to merge the venerable 
name of their house in a modern title. 

This feeling is very much fostered by the 
importance which they enjoy on their heredi- 
tary domains. The family mansion is an old 
manor-house, standing in a retired and beauti- 
ful part of Yorkshire. Its inhabitants have 
been always regarded through the surround- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 7 

ing country, as "the great ones of the earth;" 
and the little village near the hall looks tip to 
the squire with almost feudal homage. An old 
manor-house, and an old family of this kind, 
are rarely to be met with at the present day ; 
and it is probably the peculiar humor of the 
squire that has retained this secluded specimen 
of English housekeeping in something like the 
genuine old style. 

I am again quartered in the paneled cham- 
ber, in the antique wing of the house. The 
prospect from my window, however, has quite 
a different aspect from that which it wore on 
my winter visit. Though early in the month 
of April, yet a few warm sunshiny days have 
drawn forth the beauties of the spring, which, 
I think, are always most captivating on their 
first opening. The parterres of the old- 
fashioned garden are gay with flowers; and 
the gardener has brought out his exotics, and 
placed them along the stone balustrades. 
The trees are clothed with green buds and 
tender leaves ; when I throw open my jingling 
casement I smell the odor of mignonette, and 
hear the hum of the bees from the flowers 
against the sunny wall, with the varied song of 
the throstle, and the cheerful notes of the 
tuneful little wren. 

While sojourning in this stronghold of old 
fashions, it is my intention to make occasional 
sketches of the scenes and characters before 
me. I would have it understood, however, 
that I am not writing a novel, and have nothing 
of intricate plot, or marvelous adventure, to 



8 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

promise the reader. The Hall of which I 
treat has, for ought I know, neither trap-door 
nor sliding-panel, nor donjon-keep : and indeed 
appears to have no mystery about it. The 
family is a worthy, well-meaning family, that, 
in all probability, will eat and drink, and go 
to bed, and get up regularly, from one end of 
my work to the other; and the squire is so 
kind-hearted an old gentleman, that I see no 
likelihood of his throwing any kind of distress 
in the way of the approaching nuptials. In a 
word, I cannot foresee a single extraordinary 
event that is likely to occur in the whole term 
of my sojourn at the Hall. 

I tell this honestly to the reader, lest when 
he find me dallying along, through every-day 
English scenes, he may hurry ahead, in hopes 
of meeting with some marvelous adventure 
farther on. I invite him, on the contrary, to 
ramble gently on with me, as he would saunter 
out into the fields, stopping occasionally to 
gather a flower, or listen to a bird, or admire 
a prospect, without any anxiety to arrive at 
the end of his career. Should I, however, in 
the course of my loiterings about this old man- 
sion, see or hear anything curious, that might 
serve to vary the monotony of this every-day 
life, I shall not fail to report it for the reader's 
entertainment. 

For freshest wits I know will soon be wearie 
Of any book, how grave so e'er it be, 
Except it have odd matter, strange and merrie. 
Well sauced with lies and glared all with glee.* 

*Mirror for Magistrates. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



THE BUSY MAN. 

A decayed gentleman, who lives most upon his own 
mirth and my master's means, and much good do 
him with it. He does hold my master up with his 
stories, and songs, and catches, and such tricks, and 
jigs you would admire — he is with him now. 

— Jovial Crew. 

By no one has my return to the Hall been 
more heartily greeted than by Mr. Simon Brace- 
bridge, or Master Simon, as the squire most 
commonly calls him. I encountered him just 
as I entered the park, where he was breaking 
a pointer, and he received me with all the 
hospitable cordiality with which a man 
welcomes a friend to another one's house. I 
have already introduced him to the reader as a 
brisk old bachelor-looking little man; the wit 
and superannuated beau of a large family con- 
nection, and the squire's factotum. I found 
him, as usual, full of bustle ; with a thousand 
petty things to do, and persons to attend to, 
and in chirping good-humor; for there are few 
happier beings than a busy idler; this is to say, 
a man who is eternally busy about nothing. 

I visited him, the morning after my arrival, 
in his chamber, which is in a remote corner of 
the mansion, as he says he likes to be to him- 
self, and out of the way. He has fitted it up 
in his own taste, so that it is a perfect epitome 



10 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

of an old bachelor's notions of convenience 
and arrangement. The furniture is made up 
of odd pieces from all parts of the house, 
chosen on account of their suiting his notions, 
or fitting some corner of his apartment ; and he 
is very eloquent in praise : of an ancient 
elbow-chair, from which he takes occasion 
to digress into a censure on modern 
chairs, as having degenerated from the 
dignity and comfort of high-backed antiquity. 

Adjoining to his room is a small cabinet, 
which he calls his study. Here are some hang- 
ing shelves, of his own construction, on which 
are several old works on hawking, hunting, 
and farriery, and a collection or two of poems 
and songs of the reign of Elizabeth, which he 
studies out of compliment to the squire; 
together with the Novelist's Magazine, the 
Sporting Magazine, the Racing Calendar, a 
volume or two of the Newgate Calendar, a 
book of peerage, and another of heraldry. 

His sporting dresses hang on pegs in a small 
closet; and about the walls of his apartment 
are hooks to hold his fishing-tackle, whips, 
spurs, and a favorite fowling-piece, curiously 
wrought and inlaid, which he inherits from his 
grandfather. He has also a couple of old 
single-keyed flutes, and a fiddle, which he has 
repeatedly patched and mended himself, affirm- 
ing it to be a veritable Cremona, though 1 
have never heard him extract a single note 
from it that was not enough to make one's 
blood run cold. 

From this little nest his fiddle will often be 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 11 

heard, in the stillness of mid-day, drowsily- 
sawing some long-forgotten tune ; for he prides 
himself on having a choice collection of good 
old English music, and will scarcely have any- 
thing to do with modern composers. The 
time, however, at which his musical powers 
are of most use, is now and then of an evening, 
when he plays for the children to dance in the 
hall, and he passes among them and the ser- 
vants for a perfect Orpheus. 

His chamber also bears evidence of his 
various avocations; there are half copied 
sheets of music; designs for needlework; 
sketches of landscapes, very indifferently exe- 
cuted; a camera lucida; a magic lantern for 
which he is endeavoring to paint glasses ; in a 
word, it is the cabinet of a man of many 
accomplishments, who knows a little of every- 
thing, and does nothing well. 

After I had spent some time in his apart- 
ment, admiring the ingenuity of his small 
inventions, he took me about the establish- 
ment, to visit the stables, dog-kennel, and 
other dependencies, in which he appeared like 
a general visiting the different quarters of his 
camp ; as the squire leaves the control of all 
these matters to him, when he is at the Hall. 
He inquired into the state of the horses; 
examined their feet ; prescribed a drench for 
one, and bleeding for another; and then took 
me to look at his own horse, on the merits of 
which he dwelt with great prolixity, and 
which, I noticed, had the best stall in the 
stable. 



12 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

After this I was taken to a new toy of his 
and the squire's, which he termed the falconry, 
where there were several unhappy birds in 
durance, completing their education. Among 
the number was a fine falcon, which Master 
Simon had in especial training, and he told me 
that he would show me, in a few days, some 
rare sport of the good old-fashioned kind. In 
the course of our round, I noticed that the 
grooms, gamekeeper, whippers-in, and other 
retainers, seemed all to be on somewhat of a 
familiar footing with Master Simon, and fond 
of having a joke with him, though it was 
evident they had great deference for his 
opinion in matters relating to their functions. 

There was one exception, however, in a testy 
old huntsman, as hot as a pepper-corn ; a meagre, 
wiry old fellow, in a thread-bare velvet jockey- 
cap, and a pair of leather breeches, that, from 
much wear, shone as though they had been 
japanned. He was very contradictory and 
pragmatical, and apt, as I thought, to differ 
from Master Simon now and then, out of mere 
captiousness. This was particularly the case 
with respect to the treatment of the hawk, 
which the old man seemed to have under his 
peculiar care, and, according to Master Simon, 
was in a fair way to ruin ; the latter had a vast 
deal to say about casting and imping, and 
gleaming and enseaming, and giving the hawk 
the rangle, which I saw was all heathen Greek 
to old Christy; but he maintained his point 
notwithstanding, and seemed to hold all his 
technical lore in utter disrespect. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 13 

I was surprised at the good humor with 
which Master Simon bore his contradictions, 
till he explained the matter to me afterwards. 
Old Christy is the most ancient servant in the 
place, having lived among dogs and horses 
the greater part of a century, and been in the 
service of Mr. Bracebridge's father. He 
knows the pedigree of every horse on the 
place, and has bestrid the great-great-grand- 
sires of most of them. He can give a circum- 
stantial detail of every fox-hunt for the last 
sixty or seventy years, and has a history of 
every stag's head about the house, and every 
hunting trophy nailed to the door of the dog- 
kennel. 

All the present race have grown up under 
his eye, and humor him in his old age. He 
once attended the squire to Oxford when he 
was a student there, and enlightened the whole 
university with his hunting lore. All this is 
enough to make the old man opinionated, 
since he finds, on all these matters of first-rate 
importance, he knows more than the rest of 
the world. Indeed, Master Simon had been 
his pupil, and acknowledges that he derived 
his first knowledge in hunting from the in- 
structions of Christy; and I much question 
whether the old man does not still look upon 
him as rather a greenhorn. 

On our return homewards, as we were cross- , 
ing the lawn in front of the house, we heard 
the porter's bell ring at the lodge, and shortly 
afterwards, a kind of cavalcade advanced 
slowly up the avenue. At sight of it my com- 



14 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

panion paused, considered for a moment, and 
then, making a sudden exclamation, hurried 
away to meet it. As it approached I discov- 
ered a fair, fresh-looking elderly lady, dressed 
in an old-fashioned riding habit, with a broad- 
brimmed white beaver hat, such as may be 
seen in Sir Joshua Reynold's paintings. She 
rode a sleek white pony, and was followed by 
a footman in rich livery, mounted on an over- 
fed hunter. At a little distance in the rear 
came an ancient cumbrous chariot, drawn by 
two very corpulent horses, driven by as corpu- 
lent a coachman, beside whom sat a page 
dressed in a fanciful green livery. Inside of 
the chariot was a starched prim personage, 
with a look somewhat between a lady's com- 
panion and a lady's m.aid, and two pampered 
curs that showed their ugly faces and barked 
out of each window. 

There was a general turning out of the 
garrison to receive this new comer. The 
squire assisted her to alight, and saluted her 
affectionately; the fair Julia flew into her 
arms, and they embraced with the romantic 
fervor of boarding-school friends. She was- 
escorted into the house by Julia's lover, 
towards whom she showed a distinguished 
favor ; and a line of the old servants, who had 
collected in the hall, bowed most profoundly 
as she passed. 

I observed that Master Simon was most 
assiduous and devout in his attentions upom 
this old lady. He walked by the side of 
her pony up the avenue ; and while she was 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 15 

receiving- the salutations of the rest of the 
family, he took occasion to notice the fat 
coachman, to pat the sleek carriage-horses, 
and, above all, to say a civil word to my lady's 
gentlewoman, the prim, sour-looking vestal in 
the chariot. 

I had no more of his company for the rest of 
the morning. He was swept off in the vortex 
that followed in the wake of this lady. Once 
indeed, he paused for a moment, as he was 
hurrying on some errand of the good lady's, to 
let me know that this was Lady Lillycraft, a 
sister of the squire's, of large fortune, which 
the captain would inherit, and that her estate 
lay in one of the best sporting counties in all 
England. 



16 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



FAMILY SERVANTS. 

Very old servants are the vouchers of worthy house- 
keeping. They are like rats in a mansion, or mites 
in a cheese, bespeaking the antiquity and fatness of 
their abode. 

In my casual anecdotes of the Hall, I may 
often be tempted to dwell on circumstances of 
a trite and ordinary nature, from their appear- 
ing to me illustrative of genuine national char- 
acter. It seems to be the study of the squire 
to adhere, as much as possible, to what he 
considers the old landmarks of English man- 
ners. His servants all understand his ways, 
and, for the most part, have been accustomed 
to them from infancy; so that, upon the 
whole, his household presents one of the few 
tolerable specimens that can now be met with, 
of the establishment of an English country 
gentleman of the old school. By the by, the 
servants are not the least characteristic part of 
the household ; the housekeeper, for instance, 
has been born and brought up at the Hall, and 
has never been twenty miles from it; yet she 
has a stately air that would not disgrace a 
lady that had figured at the court of Queen 
Elizabeth. 

I am half inclined to think that she has 
caught it from living so much among the old 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 17 

family pictures. It may, however, be owing 
to a conscioiisness of her importance in the 
sphere in which she has always moved ; for 
she is greatly respected in the neighboring 
village, and among the farmers' wives, and 
has high authority in the household, ruling 
over the servants with quiet but undisputed 
sway. 

She is a thin old lady, with blue eyes, and 
pointed nose and chin. Her dress is always 
the same as to fashion. She wears a small, 
well-starched ruff, a laced stomacher, full pet- 
ticoats, and a gown festooned and open in 
front, which, on particular occasions, is of 
ancient silk, the legacy of some former dame 
of the family, or an inheritance from her 
mother, who was housekeeper before her. I 
have a reverence for these old garments, as I 
make no doubt they have figured about these 
apartments in days long past, when they have 
set off the charms of some peerless family 
beauty; and I have sometimes looked from 
the old housekeeper to the neighboring por- 
traits, to see whether I could not recognize 
her antiquated brocade in the dress of some 
one of those long-waisted dames that smile on 
me from the walls. 

Her hair, which is quite white, is frizzed out 
in front, and she wears over it a small cap, 
nicely plaited, and brought down under the 
chin. Her manners are simple and primitive, 
heightened a little by a proper dignity of 
station. 

The Hall is her world, and the history of the 

2 Brace bridge 



18 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

family the only history she knows, excepting 
that which she has read in the Bible. She can 
give a biography of every portrait in the pic- 
ture gallery, and is a complete family chron- 
icle. 

She is treated with great consideration by 
the squire. Indeed, Master Simon tells me 
that there is a traditional anecdote current 
among the servants, of the squire's having 
been seen kissing her in the picture gallery, 
when they were both young. As, however, 
nothing further w^as ever noticed between 
them, the circumstance caused no great scan- 
dal ; only she was observed to take to reading 
Pamela shortly afterwards, and refused the 
hand of the village inn-keeper, whom she had 
previously smiled on. 

The old butler, who was formerly footman, 
and a rejected admirer of hers, used to tell 
the anecdote now and then, at those little 
cabals that will occasionally take place among 
the most orderly servants, arising from the 
common propensity of the governed to talk 
against administration ; but he has left it off, 
and of late years, since he has risen into place, 
and shakes his head rebukingly when it is 
mentioned. 

It is certain that the old lady will, to this 
day, dwell on the looks of the squire when he 
was a young man at college ; and she main- 
tains that none of his sons can compare with 
their father when he was of their age, and was 
dressed out in his full suit of scarlet, with his 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 19 

hair craped and powdered, and his three-cor- 
nered hat. 

She has an orphan niece, a pretty, soft- 
hearted baggage, named Phoebe Wilkins, who 
has been transplanted to the Hall within a 
year or two, and been nearly spoiled for any 
condition of life. She is a kind of attendant 
and companion of the fair Jnlia's; and from 
loitering about the young lady's apartments, 
reading scraps of novels, and inheriting 
second-hand finery, has become something be- 
tween a waiting-maid and a slip-shod fine lady. 

She is considered a kind of heiress among 
the servants, as she will inherit all her aunt's 
property ; which, if report be true, must be a 
round sum of good golden guineas, the accu- 
mulated wealth of two housekeepers' savings; 
not to mention the hereditary wardrobe, and 
the many little valuables and knick-knacks 
treasured up in the housekeeper's room. In- 
deed the old housekeeper has the reputation 
among the servants and the villagers of being 
passing rich; and there is a japanned chest of 
drawers and a large iron-bound coffer in her 
room, which are supposed by the housemaids to 
hold treasures of wealth. 

The old lady is a great friend of Master 
Simon, who, indeed, pays a little court to her, 
as to a person high in authority: and they 
have many discussions on points of family his- 
tory, in which, notwithstanding his extensive 
information, and pride of knowledge, he 
commonly admits her superior accuracy. He 
seldom returns to the Hall, after one of his 



20 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

visits to the other branches of the family, 
without bringing Mrs. Wilkins some remem- 
brance from the ladies of the house where he 
has been staying. 

Indeed all the children in the house look up 
to the old lady with habitual respect and 
attachment, and she seems almost to consider 
them as her own, from their having grown up 
under her eye. The Oxonian, however, is 
her favorite, probably from being the young- 
est, though he is the most mischievous, and 
has been apt to play tricks upon her from boy- 
hood. 

I cannot help mentioning one little ceremony 
which, I believe, is peculiar to the Hall. After 
the cloth is removed at dinner, the old house- 
keeper sails into the room and stands behind 
the squire's chair, when he fills her a glass of 
wine with his own hands, in which she drinks 
the health of the company in a truly respectful 
yet dignified manner, and then retires. The 
squire received the custom from his father, and 
has always continued it. 

There is a peculiar character about the ser- 
vants of old English families that reside prin- 
cipally in the country. They have a quiet, 
orderly, respectful mode of doing their 
duties. They are always neat in their per- 
sons, and appropriately, and, if I may use the 
phrase, technically dressed ; they move about 
the house without hurry or noise ; there is noth- 
ing of the bustle of employment, or the voice 
of command; nothing of that obtrusive house- 
wifery that amounts to a torment. You are 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 21 

not persecuted by the process of making yoti 
comfortable; yet everything is done, and is 
done well. The work of the house is per- 
formed as if by magic, but it is the magic of 
system. Nothing is done by fits and starts, 
nor at awkward seasons ; the whole goes on 
like well-oiled clockwork, where there is no 
noise nor jarring in its operations. 

English servants, in general, are not treated 
with great indulgence, nor rewarded by many 
commendations; for the English are laconic 
and reserved towards their domestics ; but an 
approving nod and a kind word from master 
or mistress, goes as far here as an excess of 
praise or indulgence elsewhere. Neither do 
servants exhibit any animated marks of affec- 
tion to their employers; yet, though quiet, 
they are strong in their attachments ; and the 
reciprocal regard of masters or servants, 
though not ardently expressed, is powerful 
and lasting in old English families. 

The title of "an old family servant" carries 
with it a thousand kind associations in all 
parts of the world; and there is no claim upon 
the homebred charities of the heart more irre- 
sistible than that of having been "born in the 
house." It is common to see gray-headed 
domestics of this kind attached to an English 
family of the "old school," who continue in it 
to the day of their death in the enjoyment of 
steady unaffected kindness, and the perform- 
ance of faithful unofficious duty. I think such 
instances of attachment speak well for master 



22 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

and servant, and the frequency of them speaks 
well for national character. 

These observations, however, hold good only 
with families of the description I have men- 
tioned, and with such as are somewhat retired, 
and pass the greater part of their time in the 
country. As to the powdered menials that 
throng the walls of fashionable town resi- 
dences, they equally reflect the character of 
the establishments to which they belong; and I 
know no more complete epitomes of dissolute 
heartlessness and pampered inutility. 

But the good ' ' old family servant ! ' ' — The one 
who has always been linked, in idea, with the 
home of our heart; who has led us to school in 
the days of prattling childhood ; who has been 
the confidant of our boyish cares, and schemes, 
and enterprises; who has hailed us as we came 
home at vacations, and been the promoter of 
all our holiday sports; who, when we, in wan- 
dering manhood, have left the paternal roof, 
and only return thither at intervals will wel- 
come us with a joy inferior only to that of our 
parents; who now grown gray and infirm with 
age, still totters about the house of our fathers 
in fond and faithful servitute ; who claims us, 
in a manner, as his own; and hastens with 
querulous eagerness to anticipate his fellow 
domestics in waiting upon us at table; and 
who, when we retire at night to the chamber 
that still goes by our name, will linger about 
the room to have one more kind look, and one 
more pleasant word about times that are past 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 23 

—who does not experience towards such a 
being a feeling of almost filial affection? 

I have met with several instances of epi- 
taphs on the gravestones of such valuable 
domestics, recorded with the simple truth of 
natural feeling. I have two before me at this 
moment ; one copied from a tombstone of a 
churchyard in Warwickshire : 

*'Herelieth the body of Joseph Batte, con- 
fidential servant to George Birch, Esq. of 
Hampstead Hall. His grateful friend and 
master caused this inscription to be written in 
memory of his discretion, fidelity, diligence, 
and continence. He died (a bachelor) aged 
84, having lived 44 years in the same family. ' ' 

The other was taken from a tombstone in 
Eltham Churchyard : 

"Here lie the remains of Mr. James Tappy, 
who departed this life on the 8th of Septem- 
ber 1 818, aged 84, after a faithful service of 60 
years in one family; by each individual of 
which he lived respected, and died lamented 
by the sole survivor. ' * 

Few monuments, even of the illustrious, 
have given me the glow about the heart that 
I felt while copying this honest epitaph in the 
churchyard of Eltham. I sympathized with 
this "sole survivor" of a family mourning over 
the grave of the faithful follower of his race^ 
who had been, no doubt, a living memento of 
times and friends that had passed away ; and 
in considering this record of long and devoted 
services, I called to mind the touching speech 
of Old Adam in "As You Like it," when tot- 



24 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

tering after the youthful son of his ancient 
master : 

"Master, go on, and I will follow thee 
To the last gasp, with love and loyalty !" 

Note. — I cannot but mention a tablet which I have 
seen somewhere in the chapel of Windsor Castle, put up 
by the late King to the memory of a family servant, 
who had been a faithful attendant of his lamented 
daughter, the Princess Amelia. George IIL possessed 
much of the strong domestic feeling of the old English 
country gentleman; and it is an incident curious in 
monumental history, and creditable to the human heart, 
— a monarch erecting a monument in honor of the hum- 
ble virtues of a menial. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 25 



THE WIDOW. 

She was so charitable and piteous 
She would weep if she saw a mouse 
Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled ; 
Of small hounds had she, that she fed 
With rost flesh, milke, and wasted bread ; 
But sore wept she if any of them were dead, 
Or if man smote them with a yard smart. 

Chaucer. 

Notwithstanding the whimsical parade made 
by Lady Lillycraft on her arrival, she has 
none of the petty stateliness that I had imag- 
ined ; but, on the contrary, she has a degree of 
nature, and simple-heartedness, if I may use 
the phrase, that mingles well with her old- 
fashioned manners and harmless ostentation. 
She dresses in rich silks, with long waist; she 
rouges considerably, and her hair, which is 
nearly white, is frizzled out, and put up with 
pins. Her face is pitted with the small-pox, 
but the delicacy of her features shows that she 
may once have been beautiful ; and she has a 
very fair and well-shaped hand and arm, of 
which, if I mistake not, the good lady is still a 
little vain. 

I have had the curiosity to gather a few par- 
ticulars concerning her. She was a great belle 
in town between thirty and forty years since, 
and reigned for two seasons with all the inso- 
lence of beauty, refusing several excellent 



26 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

offers; when, Tinfortunately, she was robbed 
of her charms and her lovers by an attack of 
the small-pox. She retired immediately into 
the country, where she some time after inher- 
ited an estate, and married a baronet, a former 
admirer, whose passion had suddenly revived; 
* 'having, " as he said, "always loved her mind 
rather than her person." 

The baronet did not enjoy her mind and for- 
tune above six months, and had scarcely grown 
very tired of her, when he broke his neck in a 
fox-chase and left her free, rich, and discon- 
solate. She has remained on her estate in the 
country ever since, and has never shown any 
desire to return to town, and revisit the scene 
of her early triumphs and fatal malady. All 
her favorite recollections, however, revert to 
that sh6rt period of her youthful beauty. She 
has no idea of town but as it was at that time ; 
and continually forgets that the place and 
people must have changed materially in the 
course of nearly half a century. She will often 
speak of the toasts of those days as if still 
reigning; and, until very recently, used to talk 
with delight of the royal family, and the beauty 
of the young princes and princesses. She can- 
not be brought to think of the present king 
otherwise than as an elegant young man, 
rather wild, but who danced a minuet divinely ; 
and before he came to the crown, would often 
mention him as the "sweet young prince." 

She talks also of the walks in Kensington 
Gardens, where the gentlemen appeared in 
gold-laced coats and cocked hats, and the 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 27 

ladies in hoops, and swept so proudly along 
the grassy avenues; and she thinks the ladies 
let themselves sadly down in their dignity 
when they gave up cushioned head-dresses and 
high-heeled shoes. She has much to say too 
of the officers who were in the train of her 
admirers; and speaks familiarly of many wild 
young blades, that are now, perhaps, hobbling 
about watering places with crutches and gouty 
shoes. 

Whether the taste the good lady had of 
matrimony discouraged her or not, I cannot 
say; but, though her merits and her riches 
have attracted many suitors, she has never been 
tempted to venture again into the happy 
state. This is singular too, for she seems of 
the most soft and susceptible heart; is alv/ays 
talking of love and connubial felicity; and is a 
great stickler for old-fashioned gallantry, de- 
voted attentions, and eternal constancy, on the 
part of gentlemen. She lives, however, after 
her own taste. Her house, I am told, must 
have been built and furnished about the time 
of Sir Charles Grandison ; everything about it 
is somewhat formal and stately; but has been 
softened down into a degree of voluptuous- 
ness, characteristic of an old lady very tender- 
hearted and romantic, and that loves her ease. 
The cushions of the great arm-chairs, and 
wide sofas, almost bury you when you sit 
down on them. Flowers of the most rare and 
delicate kind are placed about the rooms and 
on little japanned stands; and sweet bags lie 
about the tables and mantelpieces. The house 



28 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

is full of pet dogs, Angora cats, and singing 
birds, who are as carefully waited upon as she 
is herself. 

She is dainty in her living, and a 
little of an epicure, living on white meats, 
and little lady-like dishes, though her 
servants have substantial old English fare, 
as their looks bear witness. Indeed, they 
are so indulged, that they are all spoiled, 
and when they lose their present place 
they will be fit for no other. Her 
ladyship is one of those easy-tempered 
beings that are always doomed to be much 
liked, but ill served, by their domestics, and 
cheated by all the world. 

Much of her time is passed in reading 
novels, of which she has a most extensive li- 
brary, and has a constant supply from the pub- 
lishers in town. Her erudition in this line of 
literature is immense; she has kept pace with 
the press for half a century. Her mind is 
stuffed with love-tales of all kinds, from the 
stately amours of the old books of chivalry, 
down to the last blue-covered romance, reek- 
ing from the press: though she evidently 
gives the preference to those that came out in 
the days of her youth, and when she was first 
in love. She maintains that there are no nov- 
els written nowadays equal to Pamela and Sir 
Charles Grandison ; and she places the Castle 
of Otranto at the head of all romances. 

She does a vast deal of good in her neighbor- 
hood, and is imposed upon by every beggar in 
the county. She is the benefactress of a vil- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 29 

lage adjoining to her estate, and takes a special 
interest in all its love affairs. She knows of 
every courtship that is going on ; every love- 
lorn damsel is sure to find a patient listener 
and sage adviser in her ladyship. She takes 
great pains to reconcile all love quarrels, and 
should any faithless swain persist in his incon- 
stancy, he is sure to draw on himself the good 
lady's violent indignation. 

I have learned these particulars partly from 
Frank Bracebridge and partly from Master 
Simon. I am now able to account for the 
assiduous attention of the latter to her lady- 
ship. Her house is one of his favorite resorts, 
where he is a very important personage. He 
makes her a visit of business once a year, 
when he looks into all her affairs; which, as 
she is no mahager, are apt to get into con- 
fusion. He examines the books of the over- 
seer, and shoots about the estate, which, he 
says, is well stocked with game, notwithstand- 
ing that it is poached by all the vagabonds in 
the neighborhood. 

It is thought, as I before hinted, that the 
captain will inherit the greater part of her 
property, having always been her chief favor- 
ite; for, in fact, she is partial to a red coat. 
She has now come to the Hall to be present at 
his nuptials, having a great disposition to inter- 
est herself in all matters of love and matri- 
mony. 



so BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



THE LOVERS. 

Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away ; for lo 
the winter is past, the rain is over and gone ; the 
flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing 
of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard 
in the land. Song of Solomon. 

To a man who is a little of a philosopher, 
and a bachelor to boot; and who, by dint of 
some experience in the follies of life, begins 
to look with a learned eye itpon the ways of 
man, and eke of women; to such a man, I say, 
there is something very entertaining in noticing 
the conduct of a pair of young lovers. It may 
not be as grave and scientific a study as the 
loves of the plants, but it is certainly as inter- 
esting. 

I have therefore derived much pleasure, 
since my arrival at the Hall, from observing 
the fair Julia and her lover. She has all the 
delightful blushing consciousness of an artless 
girl, inexperienced in coquetry, who has made 
her first conquest; while the captain regards 
her with that mixture of fondness and exulta- 
tion, with which a youthful lover is apt to 
contemplate so beauteous a prize. 

I observed them yesterday in the garden, 
advancing along one of the retired walks. 
The sun was shining with delicious warmth, 
making great masses of bright verdure, and 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 31 

deep blue shade. The cuckoo, that "har- 
binger of spring," was faintly heard from a 
distance ; the thrush piped from the hawthorn, 
and the yellow butterflies sported, and toyed, 
and coquetted in the air. 

The fair Julia was leaning on her lover's 
arm, listening to his conversation, with her 
eyes cast down, a soft blush on her cheek, and 
a quiet smile on her lips, while in the hand that 
hung negligently by her side was a bunch of 
flowers. In this way they were sauntering 
slowly along, and when I considered them, 
and the scene in which they were moving, I 
could not but think it a thousand pities that 
the season should ever change, or that young 
people should ever grow older, or that blos- 
soms should give way to fruit, or that lovers 
should ever get married. 

From what I have gathered of family anec- 
dote, I understand that the fair Julia is the 
daughter of a favorite college friend of the 
squire ; who, after leaving Oxford, had entered 
the army, and served for many years in India, 
where he was mortally wounded in a skirmish 
with the natives. In his last moments he had, 
with a faltering pen, recommended his wife 
and daughter to the kindness of his early 
friend. 

The widow and her child returned to Eng- 
land helpless, and almost hopeless. When Mr. 
Bracebridge received accounts of their situa- 
tion, he hastened to their relief. He reached 
them just in time to soothe the last moments 
of the mother, who was dying of a consump- 



32 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

tion, and to make her happy in the assurance 
that her child should never want a protector. 
The good squire returned with his prattling 
charge to his stronghold, where he has brought 
her up with a tenderness truly paternaL As 
he has taken some pains to superintend her 
education, and form her taste, she has grown 
up with many of his notions, and considers him 
the wisest as well as the best of men. 

Much of her time, too, has been past with 
Lady Lillycraft, who has instructed her in the 
manners of the old school, and enriched her 
mind with all kinds of novels and romances. 
Indeed, her ladyship has had a great hand in 
promoting the match between Julia and the 
captain, having had them together at her 
country seat the moment she found there was 
an attachment growing up between them ; the 
good lady being never so happy as when she 
has a pair of turtles cooing about her. 

I have been pleased to see the fondness with 
which the fair Julia is regarded by the old 
servants of the Hall. She has been a pet with 
them from childhood, and every one seems to 
lay some claim to her education ; so that it is 
no wonder that she should be extremely 
accomplished. The gardener taught her to rear 
flowers, of which she is extremely fond. Old 
Christy, the pragmatical hunstman, softens 
when she approaches; and as she sits lightly 
and gracefully in her saddle, claims the merit 
of having taught her to ride ; while the house- 
keeper, who almost looks upon her as a daugh- 
ter, intimates that she first gave her an insight 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 33 

into the mysteries of the toilet, having been 
dressing-maid in her young days to the late 
Mrs. Bracebridge. I am inclined to credit this 
last claim, as I have noticed that the dress of 
the young lady had an air of the old school, 
though managed with native taste, and that 
her hair was put up very much in the style of 
Sir Peter Lely's portraits in the picture gallery. 

Her very musical attainments partake of 
this old-fashioned character, and most of her 
songs are such as are not at the present day to 
be found on the piano of the modern performer. 
I have, however, seen so much of modern 
fashions, modern accomplishments, and modern 
fine ladies, that I relish this tinge of antiquated 
style in so young and lovely a girl ; and I have 
had as much pleasure in hearing her warble 
one of the old songs of Herrick, or Carew, or 
Suckling, adapted to some simple old melody, 
as I have had from listening to a lady amateur 
skylark it up and down through the finest 
bravura of Rossini or Mozart. 

We have very pretty music in the evenings, 
occasionally, between her and the captain, 
assisted sometimes by Master Simon, who 
scraps, dubiously, on his violin; being very 
apt to get out, and to halt a note or two in the 
rear. Sometimes he even thrums a little on 
the piano, and takes a part in a trio, in which 
his voice can generally be distinguished by a 
certain quavering tone, and an occasional false 
note. 

I was praising the fair Julia's performance 
to him after one of her songs, when I found he 

3 Bracebridge 



34 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

took to himself the whole credit of having 
formed her musical taste, assuring me that she 
was very apt; and, indeed, summing up her 
whole character in his knowing way, by adding, 
that "she was a very nice girl, and had no 
nonsense about her. ' ' 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 35 



FAMILY RELIQUES. 

My Infelice's face, her brow, her eye. 

The dimple on her cheek ; and such sweet skill 

Hath from the cunning workman's pencil flown, 

These lips look fresh and lovely as her own. 

False colors last after the true be dead. 

Of all the roses grafted on her cheeks, 

Of all the graces dancing in her eyes, 

Of all the music set upon her tongue, 

Of all that was past woman's excellence 

In her white bosom ; look a painted board, 

Circumscribes all ! , Dekker. 

An old English family mansion is a fertile 
subject for study. It abounds with illustrations 
of former times, and traces of the tastes, and 
humors, and manners of successive genera- 
tions. The alterations and additions, in differ- 
ent styles of architecture ; the furniture, plate, 
pictures, hangings; the warlike and sporting 
implements of different ages and fancies ; all 
furnish food for curious and amusing specula- 
tion. As the squire is very careful in collect- 
ing and preserving all family reliques, the Hall 
is full of remembrances of this kind. In look- 
ing about the establishment, I can picture to 
myself the characters and habits that have pre- 
vailed at different eras of the family history. 
I have mentioned on a former occasion the 
armor of the crusader which hangs up in the 
Hall. There are also several jack-boots, with 



36 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

enormously thick soles and high heels, that 
belonged to a set of cavaliers, who filled the 
Hall with the din and stir of arms during the 
time of the Covenanters. A number of 
enormous drinking vessels of antique fashion, 
with huge Venice glasses, and green hock 
glasses, with the apostles in relief on them, 
remain as monuments of a generation or two of 
hard-livers, that led a life of roaring revelry, 
and first introduced the gout into the family. 

I shall pass over several more such indica- 
tions of temporary tastes of the squire's prede- 
cessors : but I cannot forbear to notice a pair 
of antlers in the great hall, which is one of the 
trophies of a hard- riding squire of former times, 
who was the Nimrod of these parts. There 
are many traditions of his wonderful feats in 
hunting still existing, which are related by old 
Christy, the huntsman, who gets exceedingly 
nettled if they are in the least doubted. 
Indeed, there is a frightful chasm, a few miles 
from the Hall, which goes by the name of the 
Squire's Leap, from his having cleared it in 
the ardor of the chase ; there can be no doubt 
of the fact, for old Christy shows the very dints 
of the horse's hoofs on the rocks on each side 
of the chasm. 

Master Simon holds the memory of this 
squire in great veneration, and has a number 
of extraordinary stories to tell concerning 
him, w^hich he repeats at all hunting dinners; 
and I am told that they wax more and more 
marvelous the older they grow. He has also 
a pair of Ripon spurs which belonged to this 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 37 

mighty hunter of yore, and which he only 
wears on particular occasions. 

The place, however, which abounds most 
with mementoes of past times, is a picture gal- 
lery ; and there is something strangely pleas- 
ing, though melancholy, in considering the 
long rows of portraits which compose the 
greater part of the collection. They furnish a 
kind of narrative of the lives of the family 
worthies, which I am enabled to read with the 
assistance of the venerable housekeeper, who 
is the family chronicler, prompted occasionally 
of Master Simon. There is the progress of a 
fine lady, for instance, through a variety of 
portraits. One represents her as a little girl, 
with a long waist and hoop, holding a kitten 
in her arms, and ogling the spectator out of the 
corners of her eyes, as if she could not turn 
her head. In another we find her in the fresh- 
ness of youthful beauty, when she was a cele- 
brated belle, and so hard-hearted as to cause 
several unfortunate gentlemen to run desper- 
ate and write bad poetry. In another she is 
depicted as a stately dame, in the maturity of 
her charms; next to the portrait of her hus- 
band, a gallant colonel in full-buttomed wig 
and gold-laced hat, who was killed abroad ; and, 
finally, her monument is in the church, the 
spire of which may be seen from the window, 
where her efiigy is carved in marble, and repre- 
sents her as a venerable dame of seventy-six. 

In like manner I have followed some of the 
family great men, through a series of pictures, 
from early boyhood to the robe of dignity, or 



38 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

truncheon of command, and so on by degrees 
until they were gathered up in the common 
repository, the neighboring church. 

There is one group that particularly interested 
me. It consisted of four sisters of nearly the 
same age, who flourished about a century 
since, and, if I may judge from their portraits, 
were extremely beautiful. I can imagine what 
a scene of gayety and romance this old man- 
sion must have been when they were in the 
heyday of their charms ; when they passed like 
beautiful visions through its halls, or stepped 
daintily to music in the revels and dances of 
the cedar gallery; or printed, with delicate 
feet, the velvet verdure of these lawns. How 
must they have been looked up to with mingled 
love, and pride, and reverence, by the old fam- 
ily servants ; and followed by almost painful 
admiration by the aching eyes of rival admir- 
ers ! How must melody, and song, and tender 
serenade, have breathed about these courts, 
and their echoes whispered to the loitering 
tread of lovers ! How must these very turrets 
have made the hearts of the young galliards 
thrill as they first discerned them from afar, 
rising from among the trees, and pictured to 
themselves the beauties casketed like gems 
within these walls! Indeed I have discovered 
about the place several faint records of this 
reign of love and romance, when the Hall was 
a kind of Court of Beauty. Several of the old 
romances in the library have marginal notes 
expressing sympathy and approbation, where 
there are long speeches extolling _ladies' 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 39 

charms, or protesting eternal fidelity, or 
bewailing the cruelty of some tyrannical fair 
one. The interviews, and declarations, and 
parting scenes of tender lovers, also bear the 
marks of having been frequently read, and are 
scored, and marked with notes of admiration, 
and have initials written on the margins ; most 
of which annotations have the day of the month 
and year annexed to them. Several of the 
windows, too, have scraps of poetry engraved 
in them with diamonds, taken from the writ- 
ings of the fair Mrs. Philips, the once celebrated 
Orinda. Some of these seem to have been 
inscribed by lovers : and others, in a delicate 
and unsteady hand, and a little inaccurate in 
the spelling, have evidently been written by 
the young ladies themselves, or by female 
friends, who have been on visits to the Hall. 
Mrs. Philips seems to have been their favorite 
author, and they have distributed the names 
of her heroes and heroines among their circle of 
intimacy. Sometimes, in a male hand, the 
verse bewails the cruelty of beauty and the 
sufferings of constant love ; while in a female 
hand it prudishly confines itself to lamenting 
the parting of female friends. The bow-win- 
dow of my bedroom, which has, doubtless, been 
inhabited by one of these beauties, has several 
of these inscriptions. I have one at this 
moment before my eyes, called "Camilla part- 
ing with Leonora:" 

"How perished is the joy that's past, 
The present how unsteady 



40 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

What comfort can be great, and last, 
When this is gone already!" 

And close by it is another, written, perhaps, 
by some adventurous lover, who had stolen into 
the lady's chamber during her absence: 

"Theodosius to Camilla. 

I'd rather in your favor live 

Than in a lasting name ; 
And much a greater rate would give 

For happiness than fame. 

— Theodosius. 1700." 

When I look at these faint records of gal- 
lantry and tenderness; when I contemplate 
the fading portraits of these beautiful girls, 
and think, too, that they have long since 
bloomed, reigned, grown old, died, and passed 
away, and with them all their graces, their 
triumphs, their rivalries, their admirers; the 
whole empire of love and pleasure in which 
they ruled — "all dead, all buried, all forgot- 
ten," I find a cloud of melancholy stealing over 
the present gayeties around me. I was gaz- 
ing, in a musing mood, this very morning, at 
the portrait of the lady whose husband was 
killed abroad, when the fair Julia entered the 
gallery, leaning on the arm of the captain. 
The sun shone through the row of windows on 
her as she passed along, and she seemed to 
beam out each time into brightness, and 
relapse into shade, until the door at the bottom 
of the gallery closed after her. I felt a sad- 
ness of heart at the idea, that this was an 
emblem of her lot : a few more years of sun- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 41 

shine and shade, and all this life, and loveli- 
ness, and enjoyment, will have ceased, and 
nothing be left to commemorate this beautiful 
being but one more perishable portrait; to 
awaken, perhaps, the trite speculations of some 
future loiterer, like myself, when I and my 
scribblings shall have lived through our brief 
existence, and been forgotten. 



42 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



AN OLD SOLDIER. 

I've worn some leather out abroad ; let out a heathen 
soul or two ; fed this good sword with the black 
blood of pagan Christians ; converted a few individ- 
uals with it. — But let that pass. 

The Ordinary. 

The Hall was thrown into some little agita- 
tion, a few days since, by the arrival of Gen- 
eral Harbottle. He had been expected for sev- 
eral days, and had been looked for rather 
impatiently by several of the family. Master 
Simon assured me that I would like the gen- 
eral hugely, for he was a blade of the old 
school, and an excellent table companion. 
Lady Lilly^craft, also, appeared to be some- 
what fluttered, on the morning of the general's 
arrival, for he had been one of her early ad- 
mirers ; and she recollected him only as a dash- 
ing young ensign, just come upon the town. 
She actually spent an hour longer at her toilet 
and made her appearance with her hair uncom- 
monly frizzled and powdered, and an addi- 
tional quantity of rouge. She was evidently a 
little surprised and shocked, therefore, at find- 
ing the little dashing ensign transformed into 
a corpulent old general, with a double chin, 
though it was a perfect picture to witness their 
salutations: the graciousness of her profound 
courtesy, and the air of the old school with 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 43 

which the general took off his hat, swayed it 
gently in his hand, and bowed his powdered 
head. 

_ All this bustle and anticipation has caused 
me to study the general with a little more 
attention than, perhaps, I should otherwise 
have done ; and the few days that he has 
already passed at the Hall have enabled me, I 
think, to furnish a tolerable likeness of him to 
the reader. 

He is, as Master Simon observed, a soldier 
of the old school, with powdered head, side 
locks, and pigtail. His face is shaped like the 
stern of a Dutch man-of-war, narrow at top, 
and wide at bottom, with full rosy cheeks and 
a double chin ; so that, to use the cant of the 
day, his organs of eating may be said to be 
powerfully developed. 

The general, though a veteran, has seen 
very little active service, except the taking of 
Seringapatam, which forms an era in his his- 
tory. He wears a large emerald in his bosom, 
and a diamond on his finger, which he got on 
that occasion, and whoever is unlucky enough 
to notice either, is sure to involve himself in 
the whole history of the siege. To judge from 
the general's conversation, the taking of Ser- 
ingapatam is the most important affair that has 
occurred for the last century. 

On the approach of warlike times on the 
continent, he was rapidly promoted to get him 
out of the way of younger officers of merit ; 
until, having been hoisted to the rank of gen- 
eral, he was quietly laid on the shelf. Since 



44 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. ^ 

that time his campaigns have ben principally 
confined to watering-places; where he drinks 
the waters for a slight touch of the liver 
which he got in India; and plays whist 
with old dowagers, with whom he has 
flirted in his younger days. Indeed he 
talks of all the fine women of the last 
half century, and, according to hints which he 
now and then drops, has enjoyed the particu- 
lar smiles of many of them. 

He has seen considerable garrison duty, and 
can speak of almost every place famous for 
good quarters, and where the inhabitants give 
good dinners. He is a diner-out of the first- 
rate currency, when in town ; being invited to 
one place because he has been seen at another. 
In the same way he is invited about the 
country seats, and can describe half the seats 
in the kingdom, from actual observation ; nor 
is any one better versed in court gossip, and 
pedigrees and intermarriages of the nobility. 

As the general is an old bachelor and an old 
beau, and there are several ladies at the Hall, 
especially his quondam flame Lady Jocelyne, 
he is put rather upon his gallantry. He com- 
monly passes some time, therefore, at his 
toilet, and takes the field at a late hour every 
morning, with his hair dressed out and pow- 
dered, and a rose in his button-hole. After he 
has breakfasted, he walks up and down the 
terrace in the sunshine, humming an air, and 
hemming between every stave, carrying one 
hand behind his back, and with the other 
touching his cane to the ground and then rais- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 45 

ing it up to his shoulder. Should he, in these 
morning promenades, meet any of the elder 
ladies of the family, as he frequently does Lady 
Lillycraft, his hat is immediately in his hand, 
and it is enough to remind one of those courtly 
groups of ladies and gentlemen, in old prints 
of Windsor Terrace or Kensington Gardens. 

He talks frequently about "the service," 
and is fond of humming the old song, 

"Why, soldiers, why, 

Should we be melancholy, boys? 
Why, soldiers, why. 
Whose business 'tis to die!" 

I cannot discover, however, that the general 
has ever run any great risk of dying, except- 
ing from an apoplexy, or indigestion. He 
criticises all the battles on the Continent, and 
discusses the merits of the commanders, but 
never fails to bring the conversation ultimately 
to Tippoo Saib and Seringapatam. I am told 
that the general was a perfect champion at 
drawing-rooms, parades, and watering-places, 
during the late war, and was looked to with 
hope and confidence by many an old lady, 
when laboring under the terror of Bonaparte's 
invasion. 

He is thoroughly loyal, and attends punctu- 
ally on levees when in town. He has treas- 
ured up many remarkable sayings of the late 
king, particularly one which the king made to 
him on a field-day, complimenting him on the 
excellence of his horse. He extols the whole 
royal family, but especially the present king, 



46 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

whom he pronounces a most perfect gentleman 
and best whist-player in Europe. The general 
swears rather more than is the fashion of the 
present day ; but it was the mode of the old 
school. He is, however, very strict in reli- 
gious matters, and a staunch churchman. He 
repeats the responses very loudly in church, 
and is emphatical in praying for the king and 
royal family. 

At table his loyalty waxes very fervent with 
his second bottle, and the song of *'God save 
the King" puts him into a perfect ecstasy. 
He is amazingly well contented with the pres- 
ent state of things, and apt to get a little impa- 
tient at any talk about national ruin and agri- 
cultural distress. He says he has traveled 
about the country as much as any man, and 
has met with nothing but prosperity; and to 
confess the truth, a great part of his time is 
spent in visiting from one country-seat to 
another, and riding about the parks of his 
friends. "They talk of public distress," said 
the general this day to me, at dinner, as he 
smacked a glass of rich burgundy, and cast 
his eyes about the ample board, "they talk of 
public distress, but where do we find it, sir? I 
see none. I see no reason any one has to com- 
plain. Take my word for it, sir, this talk 
about public distress is all humbug ! ' ' 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 4T 



THE WIDOW'S RETINUE. 

Little dogs and all ! — Lear. 

In giving an account of the arrival of Lady 
Lillycraft at the Hall, I ought to have men- 
tioned the entertainment which I derived from 
witnessing the unpacking of her carriage, and 
the disposing of her retinue. There is some- 
thing extremely amusing to me in the num- 
ber of factitious wants, the loads of imaginary 
conveniences, but real incumbrances, with 
which the luxurious are apt to burthen them- 
selves. I like to watch the whimsical stir and 
display about one of these petty progressess. 
The number of robustious footmen and retainers 
of all kinds bustling about, with looks of infinite 
gravity and importance, to do almost nothing. 
The number of heavy trunks and parcels, and 
handboxes, belonging to my lady ; and the solici- 
tude exhibited about some humble, odd-looking 
box by my lady's maid ; the cushions piled in the 
carriage to make a soft seat still softer, and to 
prevent the dreadful possibility of a jolt ; the 
smelling-bottles, the cordials, the baskets of 
biscuit and fruit; the new publications; all 
provided to guard against hunger, fatigue, or 
ennui ; the led horses to vary the mode of trav- 
eling; and all this preparation and parade to 



48 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

move, perhaps, some very good-for-nothing 
personage about a little space of earth ! 

I do not mean to apply the latter part of 
these observations to Lady Lilly craft, for 
whose simple kindheartedness I have a very 
great respect, and who is really a most amiable 
and worthy being. I cannot refrain, however, 
from mentioning some of the motley retinue 
she has brought with her ; and which, indeed, 
bespeak the overflowing kindness of her 
nature, which requires her to be surrounded^ 
with objects on which to lavish it. 

In the first place, her ladyship has a pam- 
pered coachman, with a red face, and cheeks 
than hang down like dewlaps. He evidently 
domineers over her a little with respect to the 
fat horses ; and only drives out when he thinks 
proper, and when he thinks it will be good for 
the "cattle." 

She has a favorite page to attend upon herj 
person ; a handsome boy of about twelve years | 
of age, but a mischievous varlet, very muchj 
spoiled, and in a fair way to be good for noth- 
ing. He is dressed in green, with a profusion 
of gold and gilt buttons about his clothes. She 
always has one or two attendants of the kind, 
who are replaced by others as soon as they| 
grow to fourteen years of age. She has brought 
two dogs with her also, out of a number of pets 
which she maintains at home. One is a fat 
spaniel, called Zephyr — though heaven defend 
me from such a zephyr ! He is fed out of all 
shape and comfort ; his eyes are nearly strained 
out of his head ; he wheezes with corpulency, 




" He enjoys the stout oaken chair." — Page 52. 

Bracebridge Hall. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 49 

and cannot walk without great difficulty. The 
other is a little, old, gray-muzfeled curmudgeon, 
with an unhappy eye, that kindles like a coal 
if you only look at him ; his nose turns up ; his 
mouth is drawn into wrinkles, so as to show his 
teeth ; in short, he has altogether the look of a 
dog far gone in misanthropy, and totally sick of 
the world. When he walks, he has his tail 
curled up so tight that it seems to lift his feet 
from the ground ; and he seldom makes use of 
more than three legs at a time, keeping the 
other drawn up as a reserve. This last wretch 
is called Beauty. 

These dogs are full of elegant ailments un- 
known to vulgar dogs; and are petted and 
nursed by Lady Lillycraft with the tenderest 
kindness. They are pampered and fed with 
delicacies by their fellow-minion, the page; 
but their stomachs are often weak and out of 
order, so that they cannot eat ; though I have 
now and then seen the page give them a 
mischievous pinch or thwack over the head, 
when his mistress was not by. They have 
cushions for their express use, on which they 
lie before the fire, and yet are apt to shiver 
and moan if there is the least draught of air. 
When any one enters the room, they make a 
most tyrannical barking, that is absolutely 
deafening. They are insolent to all the other 
dogs of the establishment. There is a noble 
staghound, a great favorite of the Squire's, 
who is a privileged visitor to the parlor; but 
the moment he makes his appearance, these 
intruders fly at him with furious rage ; and I 

4 Bracebridge 



50 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

have admired the sovereign indifference and 
contempt with which he seems to look down 
upon his puny assailants. Wheji her ladyship 
drives out, these dogs are generally carried 
with her to take the air; when they look out 
of each window of the carriage, and bark at all 
vulgar pedestrian dogs. These dogs are a con- 
tinual source of misery to the household : as 
they are always in the way, they every now 
and then get their toes trod on, and then there 
is a yelping on their part, and a loud lamenta- 
tion on the part of their mistress, that fills the 
room with clamor and confusion. 

Lastly, there is her ladyship's waiting-gen- 
tlewoman, Mrs. Hannah, a prim, pragmatical 
old maid ; one of the most intolerable and in- 
tolerant virgins that ever lived. She has kept 
her virtue by her until it has turned sour, and 
now every word and look smacks of verjuice. 
She is the very opposite to her mistress, for 
one hates, and the other loves, all mankind. 
How they first came together I cannot imag- 
ine, but they have lived together for many 
years; and the abigail's temper being tart and 
encroaching, and her ladyship's easy and yield- 
ing, the former has got the complete upper 
hand, and tyrannizes over the good lady in 
secret. 

Lady Lillycraft now and then complains of 
it, in great confidence, to her friends, but hush- 
es up the subject immediately, if Mrs. Han- 
nah makes her appearance. Indeed, she has 
been so accustomed to be attended by her, that 
she thinks she could not do without her; 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 51 

though one great study of her life is to keep 
Mrs. Hannah in good humor, by little presents 
and kindnesses. 

Master Simon has a most devout abhorrence, 
mingled with awe, for this ancient spinster. 
He told me the other day, in a whisper, that 
she was a cursed brimstone — in fact, he added 
another epithet, which I would not repeat for 
the world. I have remarked, however, that he 
is always extremely civil to her when they 
meet. 



52 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



READY-MONEY JACK. 

My purse, it is my privy wyfe, 
This song I dare both syng and say, 
It keepeth men from grievous stryfe, 
When every man for hymself shall pay. 
As I ryde in rych array 
For gold and sylver men wyll me floryshe ; 
By thys matter I dare well saye, 
Ever gramercy myne owne purse. 

Book of Hunting. 

On the skirts of the neighboring village there 
lives a kind of small potentate, who, for aught 
I know, is a representative of one of the most 
ancient legitimate lines of the present day ; for 
the empire over which he reigns has belonged 
to his family time out of mind. His territories 
comprise a considerable number of good fat 
acres ; and his seat of power is an old farm- 
house, where he enjoys, unmolested, the stout 
oaken chair of his ancestors. The personage 
to whom I allude is a sturdy old yeoman of 
the name of John Tibbets, or rather, Ready- 
Money Jack Tibbets, as he is called throughout 
the neighborhood. 

The first place where he attracted my atten- 
tion was in the churchyard on Sunday ; where 
he sat on a tombstone after service, with his 
hat a little on one side, holding forth to a small 
circle of auditors, and, as I presumed, ex- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 53 

pounding the law and the prophets, until, on 
drawing a little nearer, I found he was only- 
expatiating on the merits of a brown horse. 
He presented so faithful a picture of a substan- 
tial English yeoman, such as he is often de- 
scribed in books, heightened, indeed, by some 
little finery peculiar to himself, that I could 
not but take note of his whole appearance. 

He was between fifty and sixty, of a strong 
muscular frame, and at least six feet high, 
with a physiognomy as grave as a lion's and 
set off with short, curling, iron-gray locks. 
His shirt-collar was turned down, and dis- 
played a neck covered with the same short, 
curling, gray hair; and he wore a colored 
silk neckcloth, tied very loosely, and tucked 
in at the iDOSom, with a green paste 
brooch on the knot. His coat was of 
dark-green cloth, with silver buttons, on 
each of .which was engraved a stag, with 
his own name, John Tibbets, underneath. 
He had an inner waistcoat of figured 
chintz, between which and his coat was 
another of scarlet cloth unbuttoned. His 
breeches were also left unbuttoned at the knees 
not from any slovenliness, but to show a broad 
pair of scarlet garters. His stockings were 
blue, with white clocks; he wore large silver 
shoe-buckles; a broad paste buckle in his hat- 
band ; his sleeve buttons were gold seven-shill- 
ing pieces ; and he had two or three guineas 
hanging as ornaments to his watch-chain. 

On making some inquiries about him, I 
gathered that he was descended from a line of 



54 BRACEBRIUGE HALL. 

farmers that had always lived on the same spot 
and owned the same property; and that half 
of the churchyard was taken up with the tomb- 
stones of his race. He has all his life been 
an important character in the place. When a. 
youngster, he was one of the most roaring 
blades of the neighborhood. No one could 
match him at wrestling, pitching the bar, cud- 
gel play, and other athletic exercises. Like 
the renowned Pinner of Wakefield, he was the 
village champion ; carried off the prize at all the 
fairs, and threw his gauntlet at the country 
round. Even to this day the old people talk 
of his prowess, and undervalue, in comparison, 
all heroes of the green that have succeeded 
him ; nay, they say that if Ready- Money Jack 
were to take the field even now, there is no 
one could stand before him. 

When Jack's father died, the neighbors 
shook their heads, and predicted that young 
Hopeful would soon make way with the old 
homestead; but Jack falsified all their predic- 
tions. The mioment he succeeded to the pater- 
nal farm he assumed a nev/ character; took a 
wife; attended resolutely to his affairs, and 
became an industrious, thrifty farmer. With 
the family property he inherited a set of old 
family maxims, to which he steadily adhered. 
He saw to everything himself; put his own 
hand to the plough; worked hard; ate heart- 
ily; slept soundly; paid for everything in cash 
down; and never danced except he could do it 
to the music of his own money in both 
pockets. He has never been without a hun- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL, 55 

dred or two pounds in gold by him, and never 
allows a debt to stand unpaid. This has 
gained him his current name, of which, by the 
by, he is a little proud ; and has caused him to 
be looked upon as a very wealthy man by all 
the village. 

Notwithstanding his thrift, however, he has 
never denied himself the amusements of life, 
but has taken a share in every passing pleas- 
ure. It is his maxim that ''he that works hard 
can afford to play." He is, therefore, an 
attendant at all the country fairs and wakes, 
and has signalized himself by feats of strength 
and prowess on every village green. 

He is a regular frequenter of the village inn, 
the landlady having been a sweetheart of his 
in early life, and he having always continued 
on kind terms with her. He seldom, however, 
drinks anything but a draught of ale ; smokes 
his pipe,and pays his reckoning before "leaving 
the tap-room." Here he "gives his little senate 
laws;" decides bets, which are very generally 
referred to him; determines upon the char- 
acters and qualities of horses; and indeed 
plays now and then the part of a judge, 
in settling petty disputes between neigh- 
bors, which otherwise might have been 
nursed by country attorneys into toler- 
able lawsuits. Jack is very candid and 
impartial in his decisions, but he has not a 
head to carry a long argument, and is very apt 
to get perplexed and out of patience if there is 
much pleading. He generally breaks through 
the argument with a strong voice, and brings 



56 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

matters to a summary conclusion, by pro- 
nouncing what he calls the ''upshot of the 
business," or, in other words, "the long and 
short of the matter. ' ' 

Jack once made a journey to London, a great 
many years since, which has furnished him 
with topics of conversation ever since. He 
saw the old king on the terrace at Windsor, 
who stopped, and pointed him out to one of the 
princesses, being probably struck with Jack's 
truly yeoman-like appearance. This is a 
favorite anecdote with him, and has no doubt 
had a great effect in making him a most loyal 
subject ever since, in spite of taxes and poor's 
rates. He was also at Bartholomew-fair, where 
he had half the buttons cut off his coat ; and 
a gang of pick-pockets, attracted by his ex- 
ternal show of gold and silver, made a regular 
attempt to hustle him as he was gazing at a 
show ; but for once they found that they had 
caught a tartar, for Jack enacted as great won- 
ders among the gang as Sampson did among 
the Philistines. One of his neighbors, who 
had accompanied him to town, and was with 
him at the fair, brought back an account of his 
exploits, which raised the pride of the whole 
village; who considered their champion as 
having subdued all London, and eclipsed the 
achievements of Friar Tuck, or even the re- 
nowned Robin Hood himself. 

Of late years the old fellow has begun to 
take the world easily; he works less, and 
indulges in greater leisure, his son having 
grown up, and succeeded to him both in the 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 57 

labors of the farm and the exploits of the 
green. Like all sons of distinguished men, 
however, his father's renown is a disadvantage 
to him, for he can never come up to public ex- 
pectation. Though a fine, active fellow of 
three-and-twenty, and quite the "cock of the 
walk," yet the old people declare he is noth- 
ing like what Ready-Money Jack was at his 
time of life. The youngster himself acknowl- 
edges his inferiority, and has a wonderful opin- 
ion of the old man, who indeed taught him all 
his athletic accomplishments, and holds such 
a sway over him, that I am told, even to this 
day, he would have no hesitation to take him 
in hands, if he rebelled against paternal gov- 
ernment. 

The Squire holds Jack in very high esteem, 
and shows him to all his visitors as a specimen 
of old English "heart of oak. " He frequently 
calls at his house, and tastes some of his home- 
brewed, which is excellent. He made Jack a 
present of old Tusser's Hundred Points of 
good Husbandrie, which has furnished him in 
reading ever since, and is his text-book and 
manual in all agricultural and domestic con- 
cerns. He has made dog's ears at the most 
favorite passages, and knows many of the poet- 
ical maxims by heart. 

Tibbets, though not a man to be daunted or 
fluttered by high acquaintances; and though 
he cherishes a sturdy independence of mind 
and manner, yet is evidently gratified by the 
attentions of the squire, whom he has known 
from boyhood, and pronounces "a true gentle- 



58 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

man every inch of him. " He is also on excel- 
lent terms with Master Simon, who is kind of 
privy councillor to the family; but his great 
favorite is the Oxonian, whom he taught to 
wrestle and play at quarter-staff when a boy, 
and considers the most promising young gen- 
tleman in the whole county. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



BACHELORS. 

The Bachelor most joyfully 
In pleasant plight doth pass his dades, 

Good fellowship and companie 
He doth maintain and kepe alwaies. 

— Evans's OM BaHads. 

There is no character in the comedy of human 
life that is more difficult to play well than 
that of an old bachelor. When a singl-e gen- 
tleman, therefore, arrives at that critical period 
when he begins to consider it an impertinent 
question to be asked his age, I would advise 
him to look well to his ways. This period, it 
is true, is much later with some men thaa with 
others; I have witnessed more than ance the 
meeting of two wrinkled old lads of this kind, 
who had not seen each other for several years, 
and have been amused by the amicable ex- 
change of compliments on each other's appear- 
ance that takes place on such occ^ions. There 
is always one invariable observation, "Why, 
bless my soul! you look younger than when 
last I saw you!" Whenever a man's friends 
begin to compliment him about looking young, 
he may be sure that they think he is growing 
old. 

I am led to make these remarks by the con- 
duct of Master Simon and the general, who 
have become great cronies. As the former is 



60 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

the younger by many years, he is regarded as 
quite a youthful gallant by the general, who 
moreover looks upon him as a man of great 
wit and prodigious acquirements. I have 
already hinted that Master Simon is a family 
beau, and considered rather a young fellow by 
all the elderly ladies of the connection ; for an 
old bachelor, in an old family connection, is 
something like an actor in a regular dramatic 
corps, who seems "to flourish in immortal 
youth, * ' and will continue to play the Romeos 
and Rangers for half a century together. 

Master Simon, too, is a little of the cha- 
meleon, and takes a different hue with every 
different companion : he is very attentive and 
officious, and somewhat sentimental, with 
Lady Lillycraf t ; copies out little namby-pamby 
ditties and love-songs for her, and draws 
quivers, and doves, and darts, and Cupids, to 
be worked in the corners of her pocket-hand- 
kerchiefs. He indulges, however, in very con- 
siderable latitude with the other married ladies 
of the family ; and has many sly pleasantries 
to whisper to them, that provoke an equivocal 
laugh and tap of the fan. But when he gets 
among young company, such as Frank Brace- 
bridge, the Oxonian, and the general, he is apt 
to put on the mad wig, and to talk in a very 
bachelor-like strain about the sex. 

In this he has been encouraged by the ex- 
ample of the general, whom he looks up to as 
a man who has seen the world. The general, 
in fact, tells shocking stories after dinner, 
when the ladies have retired, which he gives 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 61 

as some of the choice things that are served up 
at the MuUigatawney Club, a knot of boon com- 
panions in London. He also repeats the fat 
jokes of Major Pendergast, the wit of the club, 
and which, though the general can hardly 
repeat them for laughing, always make Mr. 
Bracebridge look grave, he having a great 
antipathy to an indecent jest. In a word, the 
general is a complete instance of the declen- 
sion in gay life, by which a young man of 
pleasure is apt to cool down into an obscene 
old gentleman. 

I saw him and Master Simon, an evening 
or two since, conversing with a buxom milk- 
maid in the meadow; and from their elbowing 
each other now and then, and the general's 
shaking his shoulders, blowing up bis cheeks, 
and breaking out into a short fit of irrepressi- 
ble laughter, I had no doubt they were playing 
the mischief with the girl. 

As I looked at them through the hedge, I 
could not but think they would have made a 
tolerable group for a modern picture of Susan- 
nah and the two elders. It is true the girl 
seemed in no wise alarmed at the force of the 
enemy; and I question, had either of them 
been alone, whether she would not have been 
more than they would have ventured to en- 
counter. Such veteran roisters are daring wags 
when together, and will put any female to the 
blush with their jokes ; but they are as quiet 
as lambs when they fall singly into the clutches 
of a fine woman. 

In spite of the general's years, he evidently 



62 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

is a little vain of his person, and ambitious of 
conquests. I have observed him on Sunday in 
church eyeing the country girls most suspic- 
iously; and have seen him leer upon them with 
a downright amorous look, even when he has 
been gallanting Lady Lillycraft with great 
ceremony through the churchyard. The gen- 
eral, in fact, is a veteran in the service of Cupid 
rather than of Mars, having signalized himself 
in all the garrison towns and country quarters, 
and seen service in every ball-room in England. 
Not a celebrated beauty but he has laid siege 
to; and if his words may be taken in a matter 
wherein no man is apt to be over veracious, it 
is incredible what success he has had with the 
fair. At present he is like a worn-out warrior, 
retired from service; but who still cocks his 
beaver with a military air, and talks stoutly 
of fighting whenever he comes within the 
smell of gunpowder. 

I have heard him speak his mind very freely 
over his bottle, about the folly, of the captain 
in taking a wife ; as he thinks a young soldier 
should care for nothing but his "bottle and 
kind landlady." But, in fact, he says, the ser- 
vice on the continent has had a sad effect upon 
the young men; they have been ruined, by 
light wines and French quadrilles. "They've 
nothing," he says, "of the spirit of the old 
service. There are none of your six-bottle 
men left, that were the souls of a mess-dinner, 
and used to play the very deuce among the 
women." 

As to a bachelor, the general affirms that he 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 63 

is a free and easy man, with no baggage to take 
care of but his portmanteau; but, as Major 
Pendergast says, a married man, with his wife 
hanging on his arm, always puts him in mind 
of a chamber candlestick, with its extinguisher 
hitched to it. I should not mind all this if 
it were merely confined to the general ; but I 
fear he will be the ruin of my friend, Master 
Simon, who already begins to echo his heresies, 
and to talk in the style of a gentleman that 
has seen life, and lived upon the town. Indeed 
the general seems to have taken Master Simon 
in hand, and talks of showing him the lions 
when he comes to town, and of introducing 
him to a knot of choice spirits at the Mulliga- 
tawney Club; which, I understand, is com- 
posed of old nabobs, officers in the Company's 
employ, and other "men of Ind, " that have 
seen service in the East, and returned home 
burnt out with curry and touched with the liver 
complaint. They have their regular club, 
where they eat MuUigatawney soup, smoke 
the hookah, talk about Tippoo Saib, Seringa- 
patam, and tiger-hunting; and are tediously 
agreeable in each other's company. 



64 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



A LITERARY ANTIQUARY. 

Printed bookes he contemnes, as a novelty of this latter 
age ; but a manuscript he pores on everlastingly ; 
especially if the cover be all moth-eaten, and the 
dust make a parethesis between every syllable. 

Micro-Cosmographie, 1628. 

The squire receives great sympathy and sup- 
port in his antiquated humors, from the par- 
son, of whom I made some mention on my for- 
mer visit to the Hall, and who acts as a kind 
of family chaplain. He has been cherished by 
the squire almost constantly since the time 
that they were fellow-students at Oxford ; for 
it is one of the peculiar advantages of these 
great universities, that they often link the poor 
scholar to the rich patron, by early and heart- 
felt ties, that last through life, without the 
usual humiliation of dependence and patron- 
age. Under the fostering protection of the 
squire, therefore, the little parson has pursued 
his studies in peace. Having lived almost en- 
tirely among books, and those, too, old books, 
he is quite ignorant of the world, and his mind 
is as antiquated as the garden at the Hall, 
where the flowers are all arranged in formal 
beds, and the yew-trees clipped into urns and 
peacocks. 

His taste for literary antiquities was first 
imbibed in the Bodlein Library at Oxford; 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 65 

where, when a student, he passed many an hour 
foraging among the old manuscripts. He has 
since, at different times, visited most of the 
curious libraries in England, and has ran- 
sacked many of the cathedrals. With all his 
quaint and curious learning, he has nothing of 
arrogance or pedantry; but that unaffected 
earnestness and guileless simplicity which seem 
to belong to the literary antiquary. 

He is a dark, mouldy little man, and rather 
dry in his manner; yet, on his favorite theme, 
he kindles up, and at times is even eloquent. 
No fox-hunter, recounting his last day's sport, 
could be more animated than I have seen the 
worth}- parson, when relating his search after 
a curious document, which he had traced from 
library to library, until he fairly unearthed it 
in the dusty chapter-house of a cathedral. 
When, too, he describes some venerable manu- 
script, with its rich illuminations, its thick 
creamy vellum, its glossy ink, and the odor of 
the cloisters that seemed to exhale from it, he 
rivals the enthusiams of a Parisian epicure, ex- 
patiating on the merits of a Perigord pie, or a 
Pate de Strasbourg. 

His brain seems absolutely haunted with 
lovesick dreams about gorgeous old works in 
*'silk linings, triple gold bands, and tinted 
leather, locked up in wire cases, and secured 
from the vulgar hands of the mere reader;" 
and, to continue the happy expression of an 
ingenious writer, *' dazzling one's eyes, like 
eastern beauties peering through their jealous- 
ies." 

5 Bracebridge 



66 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

He has a great desire, however, to read such 
works in the old libraries and chapter-houses 
to which they belong ; for he thinks a black- 
lettered volume reads best in one of those 
venerable chambers where the light struggles 
through dusty lancet windows and painted 
glass : and that it loses half its zest if taken 
away from the neighborhood of the quaintly 
carved oaken book-case and Gothic reading- 
desk. At his suggestion, the squire has had 
the library furnished in this antique taste, and 
several of the windows glazed with painted 
glass, that they may throw a properly tem- 
pered light upon the pages of their favorite 
old authors. 

The parson, I am told, has been for some 
time meditating a commentary on Strut, 
Brand, and Douce, in which he means to de- 
tect them in sundry dangerous errors in re- 
spect to popular games and superstitions; a 
work to which the squire looks forward with 
great interest. He is also a casual contributor 
to that long established repository of national 
customs and antiquities, the Gentleman's 
Magazine, and is one of those that every now 
and then make an inquiry concerning some 
obsolete customs or rare legend ; nay, it is said 
that several of his communications have been 
at least six inches in length. He frequently 
receives parcels by coach from different parts 
of the kingdom, containing mouldy volumes 
and almost illegible manuscripts; for it is sin- 
gular what an active correspondence is kept 
up among literary antiquaries, and how soon 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 67 

the fame of any rare volume, or tmiqtie copy, 
just discovered among the rubbish of a library, 
is circulated among them. The parson is 
more busy than common just now, being a lit- 
tle flurried by an advertisement of a work, said 
to be preparing for the press, on the mythol- 
ogy of the middle ages. The little man has 
long been gathering together all the hobgob- 
lin tales he could collect, illustrative of the 
superstitions of former times ; and he is in a 
complete fever lest this formidable rival should 
take the field before him. 

Shortly after my arrival at the Hall, I called 
at the parsonage, in company with Mr. Brace- 
bridge and the general. The parson had not 
been seen for several days, which was a mat- 
ter of some surprise, as he was an almost daily 
visitor at the Hall. We found him in his 
study, a small, dusky chamber, lighted by a 
lattice window that looked into the churchyard, 
and was overshadowed by a yew-tree. His 
chair was surrounded by folios and quartos, 
piled upon the floor, and his table was covered 
with books and manuscripts. The cause of 
this seclusion was a work which he had re- 
cently received, and with which he had retired 
in rapture from the world, and shut himself 
up to enjoy a literary honeymoon undisturbed. 
Never did boarding-school girl devour the 
pages of a sentimental novel, or Don Quixote 
a chivalrous romance, with more intense de- 
light than did the little man banquet on the 
pages of this delicious work. It was Dibdin's 
Bibliographical Tour; a work calculated to 



68 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

have as intoxicating effect on the imaginations 
of literary antiquaries as the adventures of the 
heroes of the Round Table on all true knights; 
or the tales of the early American voyagers on 
the ardent spirits of the age, filling them with 
dreams of Mexican and Peruvian mines, and 
of the golden realm of El Dorado. 

The good parson had looked forward to this 
bibliographical expedition as of far greater 
importance than those to Africa, or the North 
Pole. With what eagerness had he seized 
upon the history of the enterprise! With 
what interest had he followed the redoubtable 
bibliographer and his graphical squire in their 
adventurous roamings among Norman castles 
and cathedrals, and French libraries, and Ger- 
man convents and universities; penetrating 
into the prison-houses of vellum manuscripts 
and exquisitely illuminated missals, and re- 
vealing their beauties to the v/orld ! 

When the parson had finished a rapturous 
eulogy on this most curious and entertaining 
work, he drew forth from a little drawer a 
manuscript lately received from a correspond- 
ent, which perplexed him sadly. It was writ- 
ten in Norman-French in very ancient charac- 
ters, and so faded and mouldered away as to be 
almost illegible. It was apparently an old 
Norman drinking song, that might have been 
brought over by one of William the Conquer- 
or's carousing followers. The writing was just 
legible enough to keep a keen antiquity 
hunter on a doubtful chase; here and there he 
would be completely thrown out, and then 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 69 

there would be a few words so plainly written 
as to put him on the scent again. In this way- 
he had been led on for a whole day, until he 
had found himself completely at fault. 

The squire endeavored to assist him, but was 
equally baffled. The old general listened for 
some time to the discussion, and then asked 
the parson if he had read Captain Morris's or 
George Stephens's or Anacreon Moore's bac- 
chanalian songs ; on the other replying in the 
negative, "Oh, then," said the general, with 
a sagacious nod, ''if you want a drinking song 
I can furnish you with the latest collection — 
I did not know you had a turn for those kind 
of things; and I can lend you the Encyclo- 
psedia of Wit into the bargain. I never travel 
without them ; they're excellent reading at an 
inn. ' ' 

It would not be easy to describe the odd 
look of surprise and perplexity of the parson 
at this proposal; or the difficulty the squire 
had in making the general comprehend, that 
though a jovial song of the present day was 
but a foolish sound in the ears of wisdom, and 
beneath the notice of a learned man, yet a 
trowl written by a tosspot several hundred 
years since was a matter worthy of the grav- 
est research, and enough to set whole colleges 
by the ears. 

I have since pondered much on this matter, 
and have figured to myself what may be the 
fate of our current literature, when retrieved 
piecemeal by future antiquaries, from among 
the rubbish of ages. What a Magnus Apollo, 



70 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

for instance, will Moore become among sober 
divines and dusty schoolmen ! Even his fes- 
tive and amatory songs, which are now the 
mere quickeners of our social moments, or the 
delights of our drawing-rooms, will then 
become matters of laborious research and pain- 
ful collation. How many a grave professor 
will then waste his midnight oil, or worry his 
brain through a long morning, endeavoring to 
restore the pure text, or illustrate the bio- 
graphical hints of '*Come tell me, says Rosa, 
as kissing and kissed;" and how many an arid 
old book-worm, like the worthy little parson, 
will give up in despair, after vainly striving to 
fill up some fatal hiatus in "Fanny of Tim- 
mol!" 

Nor is it merely such exquisite authors as 
Moore that are doomed to consume the oil of 
future antiquaries. Many a poor scribbler, 
who is now apparently sent to oblivion by 
pastry-cooks and cheesem-ongers, will then rise 
again in fragments, and flourish in learned 
immortality. 

After all, thought I, time is not such an in- 
variable destroyer as he is represented. If he 
pulls down, he likewise builds up ; if he im- 
poverishes one, he enriches another; his very 
dilapidations furnish matter for new works of 
controversy, and his rust is more precious than 
the most costly gilding. Under his plastic 
hand trifles rise into importance ; the nonsense 
of one age becomes the wisdom of another; 
the levity of the wit gravitates into the learn- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 71 

ing of the pedant, and an ancient farthing 
moulders into infinitely more value than a 
modern guinea. 



72 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



THE FARM-HOUSE. 
-Love and hay 



Are thick sown, but come up full of thistles. 

Beaumont and Fletcher. 

I was so much pleased with the anecdotes 
which were told me of Ready- Money Jack 
Tibbits, that I got Master Simon, a day or two 
since, to take me to his house. It was an old- 
fashioned farm-house, built of brick, with curi- 
ously twisted chimneys. It stood at a little 
distance from the road, with a southern ex- 
posure, looking upon a soft green slope of 
meadow. There was a small garden in front, 
with a row of beehives humming among beds 
of sweet herbs and flowers. Well-scoured 
milking tubs, with bright copper hoops, hung 
on the garden paling. Fruit trees were trained 
up against the cottage, and pots of flowers 
stood in the windows. A fat superannuated 
mastiff lay in the sunshine at the door; with a 
sleek cat sleeping peacefully across him. 

Mr. Tibbits was from home at the time of 
our calling, but we were received with hearty 
and homely welcome by his wife — a notable, 
motherly woman, and a complete pattern for 
wives, since, according to Master Simon's ac- 
count, she never contradicts honest Jack, and 
yet manages to have her own way, and to con- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 73 

trol him in everything. She received us in the 
main room of the house, a kind of parlor or 
hall, with great brown beams of timber across 
it, which Mr. Tibbits is apt to point out with 
some exultation, observing that they don't put 
such timber in houses nowadays. The furni- 
ture was old-fashioned, strong and highly pol- 
ished ; the walls were hung with colored prints 
of the story of the Prodigal Son, who was rep- 
resented in a red coat and leather breeches. 
Over the fireplace was a blunderbuss, and a 
hard-favored likeness of Ready-Money Jack, 
taken, when he was a young man, by the same 
artist that painted the tavern sign ; his mother 
having taken a notion that the Tibbetses had 
as much right to have a gallery of family 
portraits as the folks at the Hall. 

The good dame pressed us very much to take 
some refreshments, and tempted us with a 
variety of household dainties, so that we were 
glad to compound by tasting some of her 
home-made wines. While we were there, the 
son and heir-apparent came home; a good- 
looking young fellow, and something of a rus- 
tic beau. He took us over the premises, and 
showed us the whole establishment. An air 
of homely but substantial plenty prevailed 
throughout; everything was of the best mate- 
rials, and in the best condition. Nothing was 
out of place, or ill-made ; and you saw every- 
where the signs of a man that took care to 
have the worth of his money, and that paid as 
he went. 

The farm-yard was well-stocked; under a 



74 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

shed was a taxed cart, in trim order, in which 
Ready-Money Jack took his wife about the 
country. His well-fed horse neighed from the 
stable, and when led out into the yard, to use 
the words of young Jack, "he shone like a bot- 
tle" ; for he said the old man made it a rule 
that everything about him should fare as well 
as he did himself. 

I was pleased to see the pride which the 
young fellow seemed to have of his father. 
He gave us several particulars concerning his 
habits, which were pretty much to the effect 
of those I have already mentioned. He had 
never suffered an account to stand in his life, 
always providing the money before he pur- 
chased anything; and, if possible, paying in 
gold and silver. He had a great dislike to 
paper money, and seldom went without a con- 
siderable sum in gold about him. On my ob- 
serving that it was a wonder he had never 
been waylaid and robbed, the young fellow 
smiled at the idea of any one venturing upon 
such an exploit, for I believe he thinks the old 
man would be a match for Robin Hood and all 
his g^ng. 

I have noticed that Master Simon seldom 
goes into any house without having a world of 
private talk with some one or other of the fam- 
ily, being a kind of universal counselor and 
confidant. We had not been long at the farm 
before the old dame got him into a corner of 
her parlor, where they had a long whispering 
conference together; in which I saw by his 
shrugs that there were some dubious matters 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 75 

discussed, and by his nods that he agreed with 
everything she said. 

After we had come out, the young man ac- 
companied us a little distance, and then, draw- 
ing Master Simon aside into a green lane, they 
walked and talked together for nearly half an 
hour. Master Simon, who has the usual pro- 
pensity of confidants to blab everything to the 
next friend they meet with, let me know that 
there was a love affair in question ; the young 
fellow having been smitten with the charms of 
Phcebe Wilkins, the pretty niece of the house- 
keeper at the Hall. Like most other love con- 
cerns, it had brought its troubles and perplex- 
ities. Dame Tibbets had long been on inti- 
mate gossiping terms with the housekeeper, 
who often visited the farm-house; but when 
the neighbors spoke to her of the likelihood of 
a match between her son and Phoebe Wilkins, 
"Marry come up!" she scouted the very idea. 
The girl had acted as lady's maid, and it was 
beneath the blood of the Tibbetses, who had 
lived on their own lands time out of mind, and 
owed reverence and thanks to nobody, to have 
the heir-apparent marry a servant! 

These vaporings had faithfully been carried 
to the housekeeper's ear by one of the mutual 
go-between friends. The old housekeeper's 
blood, if not as ancient, was as quick as that 
of Dame Tibbets. 

She had been accustomed to carry a high 
head at the Hall and among the villagers; and 
her faded brocade rustled with indignation at 
the slight cast upon her alliance by the wife of 



76 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

a petty farmer. She maintained that her niece 
had been a companion rather than a waiting- 
maid to the young ladies. "Tliank heavens, 
she was not obliged to work for her living, and 
was as idle as any yotmg lady in the land ; and 
when somebody died, would receive something 
that would be worth the notice of some folks 
with all their readj^ money. " 

A bitter feud had thus taken place between 
the two worthy dames, and the young people 
were forbidden to think of one another. As to 
young Jack, he was too much in love to reason 
upon the matter; and being a little heady, 
and not standing in much awe of his mother, 
was ready to sacrifice the whole dignity of the 
Tibbetses to his passion. He had lately, how- 
ever, had a violent quarrel with his mistress, 
in consequence of some coquetry on her part, 
and at present stood aloof. The politic mother 
was exerting all her ingenuity to widen this 
accidental breach ; but, as is most commonly 
the case, the more she meddled with this per- 
verse inclination of her son, the stronger it 
grew. In the meantime Old Ready-Money 
was kept completely in the dark; both parties 
were in awe and uncertainty as to what might 
be his way of taking the matter, and dreaded 
to awaken the sleeping lion. Between father 
and son, therefore, the worthy Mrs. Tibbets 
was full of business and at her wits' end. It 
is true that there was no great danger of hon- 
est Ready-Money's finding the thing out, if 
left to himself; for he was of a most unsuspi- 
cious temper, and by no means quick of ap- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 7T 

prehension; but there was daily risk of his at- 
tention being aroused by those cobwebs which 
his indefatigable wife was continually spinning 
about his nose. 

Such is the distracted state of politics in the 
domestic empire of Ready-Money Jack; which 
only shows the intrigues and internal dangers 
to which the best regulated governments are 
liable. In this perplexing situation of their 
affairs, both mother and son have applied to 
Master Simon for counsel; and, with all his 
experience in meddling with other people's 
concerns, he finds it an exceedingly difficult 
part to play, to agree with both parties, seeing 
that their opinions and wishes are so diamet- 
rically opposite. 



78 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



HORSEMANSHIP. 

A coach was a strange monster in those days, and the 
sight of one put both horse and man into amaze- 
ment. Some said it was a great crabshell brought 
out of China, and some imagined it to be one of the 
Pagan temples in which the Cannibals adored the 
divell. Taylor, the Water Poet. 

I have made casual mention, more than 
once, of one of the squire's antiquated retain- 
ers, old Christy the huntsman. I find that his 
crabbed humor is a source of much entertain- 
ment among the young men of the family : the 
Oxonian, particularly, takes a mischievous 
pleasure now and then in slyly rubbing the old 
man against the grain, and then smoothing 
him down again; for the old fellow is as ready 
to bristle up his back as a porcupine. He 
rides a venerable hunter called Pepper, which 
is a counterpart of himself, a heady, cross- 
grained animal, that frets the flesh off its 
bones ; bites, kicks, and plays all manner of 
villainous tricks. He is as tough, and nearly 
as old as his rider, who has ridden him time 
out of mind, and is, indeed, the only one that 
can do anything with him. Sometimes, how- 
ever, they have a complete quarrel, and a dis- 
pute for mastery, and then, I am told, it is as 
good as a farce to see the heat they both get 
into, and the wrongheaded contest that ensues; 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 79 

for they are quite knowing in each other's 
ways, and in the art of teasing and fretting 
each other. Notwithstanding these doughty 
brawls, however, there is nothing that nettles 
old Christy sooner than to question the merits 
of his horse ; which he upholds as tenaciously 
as a faithful husband will vindicate the vir- 
tues of the termagant spouse that gives him a 
•curtain lecture every night of his life. 

The young men call old Christy their *' pro- 
fessor of equitation, * ' and in accounting for the 
appellation, they let me into some particulars 
of the squire's mode of bringing up his chil- 
dren. There is an odd mixture of eccentricity 
and good sense in all the opinions of my 
worthy host His mind is like modern Gothic, 
where plain brick-work is set off with pointed 
arches and plain tracery. Though the main 
groundwork of his opinions is correct, yet he 
has a thousand little notions, picked up from 
old books, which stand out whimsically on the 
surface of his mind. 

Thus, in educating his boys, he chose Peach- 
um, Markham, and such old English writers 
for his manuals. At an early age he took the 
lads out of their mother's hands, who was dis- 
posed, as mothers are apt to be, to make fine 
orderly children of them, that should keep out 
of sun and rain, and never soil their hands, nor 
tear their clothes. 

In place of this, the squire turned them 
loose, to run free and wild about the park, 
without heeding wind or weather. He was 
also particularly attentive in making them 



80 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

bold and expert horsemen ; and these were the 
daj^s when old Christy, the huntsman, enjoyed 
great importance, as the lads were put under 
his care to practice them at the leaping-bars, 
and to keep an eye upon them in the chase. 

The squire always objected to their using 
carriages of any kind, and is still a little ten- 
acious on this point. He often rails against 
the universal use of carriages, and quotes the 
words of honest Nashe to that effect. "It was 
thought," says Nashe, in his Quaternio, "a 
kind of solecism, and to savor of effeminacy, 
for a young gentleman in the flourishing time 
of his age to creep into a coach, and to shroud 
himself from wind and weather; our great 
delight was to out-brave the blustering boreas 
upon a great horse ; to arm and prepare our- 
selves to go with Mars and Bellona into the 
field was our sport and pastime; coaches and 
caroches we left unto them for whom they 
were first invented, for ladies and gentlemen, 
and decrepit age and important people." 

The squire insists that the English gentle- 
men have lost much of their hardiness and 
manhood since the introduction of carriages. 
"Compare," he will say, "the fine gentleman 
of former times, ever on horseback, booted 
and spurred, and travel-stained, but open, 
frank, manly, and chivalrous, with the fine 
gentleman of the present day, full of affecta- 
tion and effeminacy, rolling along a turnpike 
in his voluptuous vehicle. The young men of 
those days were rendered brave, and lofty, and 
generous, in their notions, by almost living 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 81 

in their saddles, and having their foaming 
steeds 'like proud seas under them.' There 
is something," he adds, "in bestriding a fine 
horse, that makes a man feel more than mor- 
tal. He seems to have doubled his nature, and 
to have added to his own courage and sagacity 
the power, the speed, and stateliness of the 
superb animal on which he is mounted." 

"It is a great delight," says old Nashe, "to 
see a young gentleman with his skill and cun- 
ning, by his voice, rod, and spur, better to 
manage and to command the great Bucepha- 
lus, than the strongest Milo, with all his 
strength; one while to see him make him 
tread, trot, and gallop the ring ; and one after 
to see him gather up roundly ; to bear his head 
steadily ; to run a full career swiftly ; to stop 
a sudden lightly ; anon after to see him make 
his advance, to yorke, to go back and side 
long, to turn on either hand; to gallop the 
gallop galliard; to do the capriole, the cham- 
betta, and dance the curvety. " 

In conformity to these ideas, the squire had 
them all on horseback at an early age, and 
made them ride, slap-dash, about the country, 
without flinching at hedge or ditch, or stone 
wall, to the imminent danger of their necks. 

Even the fair Julia was partially included in 
this system ; and, under the instructions of old 
Christy, has become one of the best horse- 
women in the county. The squire says it is 
better than all the cosmetics and sweeteners 
of the breath that ever were invented. He 
extols the horsemanship of the ladies in former 

6 Bracebridge 



82 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

times, when Queen Elizabeth would scarcely 
suffer the rain to stop her accustomed ride. 
*'And then think," he will say, "what nobler 
and sweeter beings it made them. What a 
difference must there be, both in mind and 
body, between a joyous high-spirited dame of 
those days, glowing with health and exercise, 
freshened by every breeze that blows, seated 
loftily and gracefully on her saddle, with 
plume on head, and hawk on hand, and her 
descendant of the present day, the pale victim 
of routs and ball-rooms, sunk languidly in one 
corner of an enervating carriage." 

The squire's equestrian system has been 
attended with great success, for his sons, 
having passed through the whole course of 
instruction without breaking neck or limb, are 
now healthful, spirited and active, and have 
the true Englishman's love for a horse. If 
their manliness and frankness are praised in 
their father's hearing, he quotes the old Per- 
sian maxim, and says, they have been taught 
*'to ride, to shoot, and to speak the truth." 

It is true the Oxonian has now and then 
practiced the old gentleman's doctrines a little 
in the extreme. He is a gay youngster, rather 
fonder of his horse than his book, with a little 
dash of the dandy; though the ladies all 
declare that he is *'the flower of the flock." 
The first year that he was sent to Oxford he 
had a tutor appointed to overlook him, a dry 
chip of the university. When he returned 
home in the vacation, the squire made many 
inquiries about how he liked his college, his 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 83 

Studies and his tutor. "Oh, as to my tutor, 
sir, I have parted with him some time since." 
"You have; and, pray, why so?" "Oh, sir, 
hunting was all the go at our college, and I 
was a little short of funds ; so I discharged my 
tutor, and took ahorse, you know." "Ah, I 
was not aware of that, Tom, ' ' said the squire 
mildly. 

When Tom returned to the college his allow- 
ance was doubled, that he might be enabled 
to keep both horse and tutor. 



84 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



LOVE SYMPTOMS. 

I will now begin to sigh, read poets, look pale, go 
neatly, and be most apparently in love. 

Marston. 

I should not be surprised if we should have 
another pair of turtles at the Hall, for Master 
Simon has informed me, in great confidence, 
that he suspects the general of some design 
upon the susceptible heart of Lady Lillycraft. 
I have, indeed, noticed a growing attention 
and courtesy in the veteran towards her lady- 
ship ; he softens very much in her company, 
sits by her at table, and entertains her 
with long stories about Seringapatam, and 
pleasant anecdotes of the Mulligatawney Club. 
I have even seen him present her with a full- 
blown rose from the hot-house, in a style of 
the most captivating gallantry, and it was 
accepted with great suavity and graciousness ; 
for her ladyship delights in receiving the hom- 
age and attention of the sex. 

Indeed, the general was one of the earliest 
admirers that dangled in her train during her 
short reign of beauty ; and they flirted together 
for half a season in London, some thirty or 
forty years since. She reminded him lately, 
in the course of conversation, about former 
days, of the time when he used to ride a white 



BRACEBRIDGE HALLe 85 

horse, and to canter so gallantly by the side 
of her carriage in Hyde Park; whereupon I 
have remarked that the veteran has regularly 
escorted her since, when she rides out on horse 
back; and I suspect he almost persuades 
himself that he makes as captivating an ap- 
pearance as in his youthful days. 

It would be an interesting and memorable 
circumstance in the chronicles of Cupid, if 
this spark of the tender passion, after lying 
dormant for such a length of time, should 
again be fanned into a flame from amidst the 
ashes of two burnt-out hearts. It would be an 
instant of perdurable fidelity, worthy of being 
placed beside those recorded in one of the 
squire's favorite tomes, commemorating the 
constancy of the olden times ; in which times 
we are told, '*men and wymmen coulde love 
togyders seven yeres, and no licours lustes 
were betwene them, and thenne was love, 
trouthe, and f eythfulness ; and lo in lyke wyse 
was used love in Kyng Arthurs dayes."* 

Still, however, this may be nothing but a 
little venerable flirtation, the general being a 
veteran dangler, and the good lady habituated 
to these kind of attentions. Master Simon, on 
the other hand, thinks the general is looking 
about him with the wary eye of an old cam- 
paigner; and now that he is on the wane, is 
desirous of getting into warm winter quarters. 

Much allowance, however, must be made for 
Master Simon's uneasiness on the subject, for 
he looks on Lady Lilly craft's house as one of 

*Mort d* Arthur. 



86 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

the strongholds where he is lord of the ascend- 
ant; and, with all his admiration of the gen- 
eral, I much doubt whether he would like to 
see him lord of the lady and the establishment. 

There are certain other symptoms, notwith- 
standing, that give an air of probability to 
Master Simon's intimations. Thus, for in- 
stance, I have observed that the general has 
been very assiduous in his attentions to her 
ladyship's dogs, and has several times exposed 
his fingers to imminent jeopardy in attempting 
to pat Beauty on the head. It is to be hoped 
his advances to the mistress will be m_ore 
favorably received, as all his overtures towards 
a caress are greeted by the pestilent little cur 
with a wary kindling of the eye, and a most 
venomous growl. He has, moreover, been 
very complaisant towards the lady's gentle- 
woman, the immaculate Mrs. Hannah, whom 
he used to speak of in a way that I do not 
choose to mention. Whether she has the same 
suspicions with Master Simon or not, I cannot 
say; but she receives his civilities with no 
better grace than the implacable Beauty; un- 
screwing her mouth into a most acid smile, and 
looking as though she could bite a piece out of 
him. In short, the poor general seems to hr.ve 
as formidable foes to contend with as a hero 
of ancient fairy tale, who had to fight his way 
to his enchanted princess through ferocious 
monsters of every kind, and to encounter the 
brimstone terrors of some fiery dragon. 

There is still another circumstance which 
inclines me to give very considerable credit to 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 87 

Master Simon's suspicions. Lady Lilly craft 
is very fond of quoting poetry, and the con- 
versation often turns upon it, on which occa- 
sions the general is thrown completely out. It 
happened the other day that Spenser's Fairy 
Queen was the theme for the great part of 
the morning, and the poor general sat per- 
fectly silent. I found him not long after in 
the library with spectacles on nose, a book in 
his hand, and fast asleep. On my approach 
he awoke, slipped the spectacles into his pocket, 
and began to read very attentively. After a 
little while he put a paper in the place, and 
laid the volume aside, which I perceived was 
the Fairy Queen. I have had the curiosity to 
watch how he got on in his poetical studies ; 
but though I have repeatedly seen him with 
the book in his hand, yet I find the paper has 
not advanced above three or four pages; the 
general being extremely apt to fall asleep 
when he reads. 



88 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



FALCONRY. 

Ne is there hawk which mantleth on her perch, 
Whether high tow'ring or accousting low, 

But I the measure of her flight doe search. 
And all her prey and all her diet know. 

Spenser. 

There are several grand sources of lamenta- 
tion furnished to the worthy squire by the 
improvement of society, and the grievous 
advancement of knowledge; among which 
there is none, I believe, that causes him more 
frequent regret than the unfortunate inven- 
tion of gunpowder. To this he continually 
traces the decay of some favorite custom, and, 
indeed, the general downfall of all chivalrous 
and romantic usages, "English soldiers," he 
says, "have never been the men they were in 
the days of the cross-bow and the long-bow; 
when they depended upon the strength of the 
arm, and the English archer could draw a cloth- 
yard shaft to the head. These were the times 
when, at the battles of Cressy, Poictiers, and 
Agincourt, the French chivalry was completely 
destroyed by the bowmen of England. The 
yeomanry, too, have never been what they 
were, when, in times of peace, they were con- 
stantly exercised with the bow, and archery 
was a favorite holiday pastime." 

Among the other evils which have followed 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 89 

in the train of this fatal invention of gunpow- 
der, the squire classes the total decline of the 
noble art of falconry. "Shooting," he says, 
*'is a skulking, treacherous, solitary sport in 
comparison ; but hawking was a gallant, open, 
sunshiny recreation ; it was the generous sport 
of hunting carried into the skies." 

*'It was, moreover," he says, "according to 
Braithewaite, the stately amusement of high 
and mounting spirits; for, as the old Welsh 
proverb affirms, in those times 'You might 
know a gentleman by his hawk, horse, and 
greyhound.' Indeed, a cavalier was seldom 
seen abroad without his hawk on his fist; and 
even a lady of rank did not think herself com- 
pletely equipped, in riding forth, unless she 
had her tassel-gentel held by jesses on her 
delicate hand. It was thought in those excel- 
lent days, according to an old writer, 'quite 
sufficient for noblemen to winde their horn, 
and to carry their hawke fair; and leave study 
and learning to the children of mean people.' " 

Knowing the good squire's hobby, therefore, 
I have not been surprised at finding that 
among the various recreations of former times 
which he has endeavored to revive in the 
little world in which he rules, he has bestowed 
great attention on the noble art of falconry. 
In this he of course has been seconded by his 
indefatigable coadjutor, Master Simon: and 
even the parson has thrown considerable light 
on their labors, by various hints on the subject, 
which he has met with in old English works. 
As to the precious work of that famous dame, 



90 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

Julianna Barnes; the Gentleman's Academie, 
by Markham; and the other well-known treat- 
ises that were the manuals of ancient sports- 
men, they have them at their fingers' ends: 
but they have more especially studied some old 
tapestry in the house, whereon is represented 
a party of cavaliers and stately dames, with 
doublets, caps, and flaunting feathers, mounted 
on horse, with attendants on foot, all in ani- 
mated pursuit of the game. 

The squire has discountenanced the killing of 
any hawks in his neighborhood, but gives a 
liberal bounty for all that are brought him 
alive; so that the Hall is well stocked with all 
kinds of birds of prey. On these he and Master 
Simon have exhausted their patience and 
ingenuity, endeavoring to "reclaim" them, as 
it is termed, and to train them up for the sport ; 
but they have met with continual checks and 
disappointments. Their feathered school has 
turned out the most intractable and graceless 
scholars; nor is it the least of their trouble to 
drill the retainers who were to act as ushers 
under them, and to take immediate charge of 
these refractory birds. Old Christy and the 
gamekeeper both, for a time, set their faces 
against the whole plan of education ; Christy 
having been nettled at hearing what he terms 
a wild-goose chase put on a par with a fox- 
hunt; and the game-keeper having always 
been accustomed look upon hawks as arrant 
poachers, which it was his duty to shoot down, 
and, nail, m terrorem, against tne out-houses. 

Christy has at length taken the matter in 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 91 

hand, but has done still more mischief by his 
intermeddling. He is as positive and wrong- 
headed about this as he is about hunting. 
Master Simon has continual disputes with him 
as to feeding and training the hawks. He 
reads to him long passages from the old 
authors I have mentioned; but Christy, who 
cannot read, has a sovereign contempt for all 
book-knowledge, and persists in treating the 
hawks according to his own notions, which 
are drawn from his experience, in younger 
days, in rearing of game cocks. 

The consequence is, that, between these 
jarring systems, the poor birds have had a most 
trying and unhappy time of it. Many have 
fallen victims to Christy's feeding and Master 
Simon's physicking; for the latter has gone to 
work secundum artem, and has given them all the 
vomitings and scourings laid down in the 
books : never were poor hawks so fed and phy- 
sicked before. Others have been lost by being 
but half 'reclaimed, ' or tamed ; for on being 
taken into the field they have 'raked' after the 
game quite out of hearing of the call, and never 
returned to school. 

All these disappointments had been petty, 
yet sore grievances to the squire, and had made 
him to despond about success. He has lately, 
however, been made happy by the receipt of a 
fine Welch falcon, which Master Simon terms 
a stately highflyer. It is a present from the 
squire's friend, Sir Watkyn Williams Wynn; 
and is, no doubt, a descendant of some ancient 
line of Welsh princes of the air, that have long 



92 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

lorded it over their kingdom of clouds, from 
Wynnstay to the very summit of Snowdon, or 
the brow of Penmanmawr. Ever since the 
squire received this invaluable present, he has 
been as impatient to sally forth and make 
proof of it, as was Don Quixote to assay his 
suit of armor. There have been some demurs 
as to whether the bird was in proper health 
and training; but these have been overruled 
by the vehement desire to play with a new 
toy; and it has been determined, right or 
wrong, in season or out of season, to have a 
day's sport in hawking to-morrow. 

The Hall, as usual, whenever the squire is 
about to make some new sally on his hobby, is 
all agog with the thing. Miss Templeton, 
who is brought up in reverence for all her 
guardian's humors, has proposed to be one of 
the party, and Lady Lillycraft has talked also 
of riding out to the scene of action and look- 
ing on. This has gratified the old gentleman 
extremely ; he hails it as an auspicious omen 
of the revival of falconry, and does not despair 
but the time will come when it will be again 
the pride of a fine lady to carry about a noble 
falcon in preference to a parrot or a lapdog. 

I have amused myself with the bustling 
preparations of that busy spirit, Master Simon, 
and the continual thwartings he receives from 
that genuine son of a pepper-box, old Christy. 
They have had half a dozen consultations about 
how the hawk is to be prepared for the morn- 
ing's sport Old Nimrod, as usual, has always 
got in a pet, upon which Master Simon has 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 93 

invariably given up the point, observing in a 
good-humored tone, '*Well, well, have it your 
own way, Christy ; only don't put yourself in 
a passion;" a reply which always nettles the 
old man ten times more than ever. 



94 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



HAWKING. 

The soaring hawk, from fist that flies, 

Her falconer doth constrain 
Sometimes to range the ground about 

To find her out again : 
And if by sight, or sound of bell, 

His falcon he may see, 
Wo ho ! he cries with cheerful voice — 

The gladdest man is he. 

Handef ull of pleasant delites. 

At an early hour this morning the Hall was 
in a bustle, preparing for the sport of the day. 
I heard Master Simon whistling and singing 
tinder my window at sunrise, as he was pre- 
paring the jesses for the hawk's legs, and could 
distinguish now and then a stanza of one of 
his favorite old ditties : 

"In peascod time, when hound to horn 
Gives note that buck be killed ; 
A little boy with pipe of corn 
Is tending sheep afield," etc. 

A hearty breakfast, well flanked by cold 
meats, was served up in the great hall. The 
whole garrison of retainers and hangers-on 
were in motion, reinforced by volunteer idlers 
from the village. The horses were led up and 
down before the door; everybody had some- 
thing to say and something to do, and hurried 
hither and thither ; there was a direful yelping 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 95 

of dogs ; some that were to accompany us being 
eager to set off, and others that were to stay 
at home being whipped back to their kennels. 
In short, for once, the good squire's mansion 
might have been taken as a good specimen 
of one of the rantipole establishments of the 
good old feudal times. 

Breakfast being finished, the chivalry of the 
Hall prepared to take the field. The fair Julia 
was of the party, in a hunting-dress, with a 
light plume of feathers in her riding-hat. As 
she mounted her favorite Galloway, I re- 
marked, with pleasure, that old Christy for got 
his usual crustiness, and hastened to adjust her 
saddle and bridle. He touched his cap as she 
smiled on him and thanked him ; and then, look- 
ing round at the other attendants, gave a know- 
ing nod of his head, in which I read pride and 
exultation at the charming appearance of his 
pupil. 

Lady Lillycraft had likewise determined to 
witness the sport. She was dressed in her 
broad white beaver, tied under the chin, and a 
riding habit of the last century. She rode her 
sleek, ambling pony, whose motion was as easy 
as a rocking-chair; and was gallantly escorted 
by the general, who looked not unlike one of 
the doughty heroes in the old prints of the bat- 
tle of Blenheim. The parson, likewise, accom- 
panied her on the other side ; for this was a 
learned amusement in which he took great in- 
terest; and, indeed, had given much counsel, 
from his knowledge of old customs. 

At length everything was arranged, and off 



96 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

we set from the Hall. The exercise on horse- 
back puts one in fine spirits ; and the scene was 
gay and animating. The young men of the 
family accompanied Miss Templeton. She sat 
lightly and gracefully in her saddle, her plumes 
dancing and waving in the air; and the group 
had a charming effect as they appeared and 
disappeared among the trees, cantering along 
with the bounding animation of youth. The 
squire and Master Simon rode together, accom- 
panied by old Christy mounted on Pepper. 
The latter bore the hawk on his fist, as he in- 
sisted the bird was most accustomed to him. 
There was a rabble rout on foot, composed of 
retainers from the Hall, and some idlers from 
the village, with two or three spaniels for the 
purpose of starting the game. 

A kind of corps de reserve came on quietly 
in the rear, composed of Lady Lillycraft, Gen- 
eral Harbottle, the parson, and a fat footman. 
Her ladyship ambled gently along on her 
pony, while the general, mounted on a tall 
hunter, looked down upon her with an air of 
the most protecting gallantry. 

For my part, being no sportsman, I kept 
with this last party, or rather lagged behind, 
that I might take in the whole picture ; and the 
parson occasionally slackened his pace and 
jogged on in company with me. 

The sport led us at some distance from the 
Hall, in a soft meadow reeking with the moist 
verdure of spring. A little river ran through 
it, bordered by willows which had put forth 
their tender early foliage. The sportsmen 




"A gypsy girl with a pair of roguish eyes." — Page 104. 

Braeebi-idge Hall. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 97 

were in quest of herons, which were said to 
keep about this stream. 

There was some disputing already among" 
the leaders of the sport. The squire, Master 
Simon, and old Christy, came every now and 
then to a pause, to consult together, like the 
field officers in an army ; and I saw, by certain 
motions of the head, that Christy was as posi- 
tive as any old wrong-headed German com- 
mander. 

As we were prancing up this quiet meadow 
every sound we made was answered by a dis- 
tant echo, from the sunny wall of an old build- 
ing that lay on the opposite margin of the 
stream; and I paused to listen to the * 'spirit 
of a sound," which seems to love such quiet 
and beautiful places. The parson informed 
me that this was the ruin of an ancient grange, 
and was supposed by the country people to be 
haunted by a dobbie, a kind of rural sprite, 
something like Robin Goodfellow. They often 
fancied the echo to be the voice of the dobbie 
answering them, and were rather shy of dis- 
turbing it after dark. He added, that the 
squire was very careful of this ruin, on account 
of the superstition connected with it. As I 
considered this local habitation of an "airy 
nothing, ' ' I called to mind the fine description 
of an echo in Webster's Duchess of Malfy: 

" 'Yond side o* th* river lies a wall, 

Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion 
Gives the best echo that you have ever heard : 
So plain is the distinction of our words 
That many have supposed it a spirit 
That answers. ' ' 
7 Bracebridge 



98 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

The parson went on to comment on a pleaS' 
ing and fanciful appellation which the Jews of 
old gave to the echo, which they called Bath- 
kool, that is to say, "the daughter of the 
voice"; they considered it an oracle, supply* 
ing in the second temple the want of the TJrin 
and Thummim, with which the first was hon- 
ored.* The little man was just entering very 
largely and learnedly upon the subject, when 
we were startled by a prodigious bawling, 
shouting, and yelping. A flight of crows, 
alarmed by the approach of our forces, had 
suddenly risen from a meadow ; a cry was put 
up by the rabble rout on foot. "Now, 
Christy! now is your time, Christy!" The 
squire and Master Simon, who were beating 
up the river banks in quest of a heron, called 
out eagerly to Christy to keep quiet ; the old 
man, vexed and bewildered by the confusion of 
voices, completely lost his head: in his flurry 
he slipped off the hood, cast off the falcon, and 
aways flew the crows, and away soared the 
hawk. 

I had paused on a rising ground, close to 
Lady Lillycraft and her escort, from whence I 
had a good view of the sport. I was pleased 
with the appearance of the party in the 
meadow, riding along in the direction that the 
bird flew; their bright beaming faces turned 
up to the bright skies as they watched the 
game; the attendants on foot scampering 
along, looking up, and calling out, and the 



*Becker's Monde E?ichante, 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 99 

dogs bounding and yelping with clamorous 
sympathy. 

The hawk had singled out a quarry from 
among the carrion crew. It was curious to see 
the efforts of the two birds to get above each 
other ; one to make the fatal swoop, the other 
to avoid it. Now they crossed athwart a 
bright feathery cloud, and now they were 
against the clear blue sky. I confess, being no 
sportsman, I was more interested for the poor 
bird that was striving for its life, than for the 
hawk that was playing the part of a mercenary 
soldier. At length the hawk got the upper 
hand, and made a rushing stoop at her quarry, 
but the latter made as sudden a surge down- 
wards, and slanting up again evaded the blow, 
screaming and making the best of his way for 
a dry tree on the brow of a neighboring hill ; 
while the hawk, disappointed of her blow, 
soared up again into the air, and appeared to 
be **raking" off. It was in vain old Christy 
called and whistled, and endeavored to lure her 
down ; she paid no regard to him ; and, indeed, 
his calls were drowned in the shouts and yelps 
of the army of militia that had followed him 
into the field. 

Just then an exclamation from Lady Lilly- 
craft made me turn my head. I beheld a com- 
plete confusion among the sportsmen in the 
little vale below us. They were galloping and 
running towards the edge of the bank ; and I 
was shocked to see Miss Templeton's horse 
galloping at large without his rider. I rode to 
the place to which the others were hurrying, 



100 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

and when I reached the bank, which almost 
overhung the stream, I saw at the foot of it 
the fair Julia, pale, bleeding, and apparently 
lifeless, supported in the arms of her frantic 
lover. 

In galloping heedlessly along, with her eyes 
turned upward, she had unwarily approached 
too near the bank; it had given Vv^ay with her, 
and she and her horse had been precipitated 
to the pebbled margin of the river. 

I never saw greater consternation. The 
captain was distracted ; Lady Lillycraft faint- 
ing ; the squire in dismay ; and Master Simon at 
his wits' end. The beautiful creature at length 
showed signs of returning life ; she opened her 
eyes; looked around her upon the anxious 
group, and comprehending in a moment the 
nature of the scene, gave a sweet smile, and 
putting her hand in her lover's, exclaimed 
feebly, *'I am not much hurt, Guy!" I could 
have taken her to my heart for that single ex- 
clamation. 

It was found, indeed, that she had escaped, 
almost miraculously, with a contusion of the 
head, a sprained ankle, and some slight 
bruises. After her wound was staunched, she 
was taken to a neighboring cottage until a car- 
riage could be summoned to convey her home; 
and when this had arrived, the cavalcade, 
which had issued forth so gayly on this enter- 
prise, returned slowly and pensively to the 
Hall. 

I had been charmed by the generous spirit 
shown by this young creature, who, amidst 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 101 

pain and danger, had been anxious only to re- 
lieve the distress of those around her. I was 
gratified, therefore, by the universal concern 
displayed by the domestics on our return. 
They came crowding down the avenue, each 
eager to render assistance. The butler stood 
ready with some curiously delicate cordial; 
the old housekeeper was provided with half a 
dozen nostrums, prepared by her own hands, 
according to the family receipt book; while 
her niece, the melting Phoebe, having no other 
way of assisting, stood wringing her hands and 
weeping aloiid. 

The most material effect that is likely to fol- 
low this accident is a postponement of the nup- 
tials, which were close at hand. Though I 
commiserate the impatience of the captain on 
that account, yet I shall not otherwise be sorry 
at the delay, as it will give me a better oppor- 
tunity of studying the characters here assem- 
bled, with which I grow more and more enter- 
tained. 

I cannot but perceive that the worthy squire 
is quite disconcerted at the unlucky result of 
his hawking experiment, and this unfortunate 
illustration of his eulogy on female equitation. 
Old Christy, too, is very waspish, having 
been sorely twitted by Master Simon for hav- 
ing let his hawk fly at carrion. As to the fal- 
con, in the confusion occasioned by the fair 
Julia's disaster, the bird was totally forgotten. 
I make no doubt she has made the best of her 
way back to the hospitable Hall of Sir Watkyn 



102 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

Williams Wynn; and may very possibly, at 
this present writing, be pluming her wings 
among the breezy bowers of Wynnstay. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 103 



FORTUNE-TELLING. 

Each city, each town, and every village 

Affords us either an alms or pillage. 

And if the weather be cold and raw, 

Then in a barn we tumble on straw. 

If warm and fair, by yea-cock and nay-cock, 

The fields will afford us a hedge or a ha^'^-cock. 

Merry Beggars. 

As I was walking one evening with the Ox- 
onian, Master Simon, and the general, in a 
meadow not far from the village, we heard the 
sound of a fiddle rudely played, and looking 
in the direction from whence it came, we saw 
a thread of smoke curling up from among the 
trees. The sound of music is always attract- 
ive; for, wherever there is music, there is 
good humor, or good- will. We passed along a 
footpath, and had a peep, through a break in 
the hedge, at the musician and his party, 
when the Oxonian gave us a wink, and told us 
that if we could follow him we should have 
some sport. 

It proved to be a gypsy encampment, con- 
sisting of three or four little cabins, or tents, 
made of blankets and sail-cloths, spread over 
hoops that were stuck in the ground. It was 
on one side of a green lane, close under a haw- 
thorn hedge, with a broad beech-tree spread- 
ing above it. A small rill tinkled along close 



104 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

by, through the fresh sward, that looked like 
a carpet. 

A tea-kettle was hanging by a crooked piece 
of iron, over a fire made from dry sticks and 
leaves and two old gypsies, in red cloaks, sat 
crouched on the grass, gossiping over their 
evening cup of tea ; for these creatures, though 
they live in the open air, have their ideas of 
fireside comforts. There were two or three 
children sleeping on the straw with which the 
tents were littered ; a couple of donkeys were 
grazing in the lane, and a thievish-looking 
dog was lying before the fire. Some of the 
younger gypsies were dancing to the music of 
the fiddle, played by a tall, slender stripling, 
in an old frock coat, with a peacock's feather 
stuck in his hat-band. 

As we approached, a gypsy girl, with a pair 
of fine roguish eyes, came up, and, as usual, 
offered to tell our fortunes. I could not but 
admire a certain degree of slattern elegance 
about the baggage. Her long black silken 
hair was curiously plaited in numerous small 
braids, and negligently put up in a pictur- 
esque style that a painter might have been 
proud to have devised. Her dress was of a 
figured chintz, rather ragged, and not over 
clean, but of a variety of most harmonious and 
agreeable colors ; for these beings have a sin- 
gularly fine eye for colors. Her straw hat was 
in her hand, and a red cloak thrown over one 
arm. 

The Oxonian offered at once to have his for- 
tune told, and the girl began with the usual. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 105 

volubility of her race ; but he drew her on one 
side near the hedge, as he said he had no idea 
of having his secrets overheard. I saw he was 
talking to her instead of she to him, and by his 
glancing towards us now and then, that he was 
giving the baggage some private hints. When 
they returned to us, he assumed a very serious 
air. *' Zounds!" said he, "it's very astonish- 
ing how these creatures come by their knowl- 
edge ; this girl has told me somethings that I 
thought no one knew but myself!" 

The girl now assailed the general: "Come, 
your honor," said she, "I see by your face 
you're a lucky man; but you're not happy in 
your mind; you're not, indeed, sir; but have 
a good heart, and give me a good piece of sil- 
ver, and I'll tell you a nice fortune." 

The general had received all her approaches 
with a banter, and had suffered her to get hold 
of his hand; but at the mention of the piece of 
silver, he hemmed, looked grave, and turning 
to us, asked if we had not better continue our 
walk. "Come, my master," said the girl 
archly, "you'd not be in such a hurry if you 
knew all that I could tell you about a fair lady 
that has a notion for you. Come, sir, old love 
burns strong; there's many a one comes to see 
weddings that go away brides themselves!" 
Here the girl whispered something in a low 
voice, at which the general colored up, was a 
little fluttered, and suffered himself to be 
drawn aside under the hedge, where he ap- 
peared to listen to her with great earnestness, 
and at the end paid her half-a-crown with the 



106 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

air of a man that has got the worth of his 
money. 

The girl next made her attack upon Master 
Simon, who, however, was too old a bird to be 
caught, knowing that it would end in an attack 
upon his purse, about which he is a little sen- 
sitive. As he has a great notion however, of 
being considered a roister, he chucked her un- 
der the chin, played her off with rather broad 
jokes, and put on something of the rake-helly 
air, that we see now and then- assumed on the 
stage by the sad-boy gentlemen of the old 
school. "Ah, your honor," said the girl, with 
a malicious leer, "you were not in such a tan- 
trum last year when I told you about the 
widow, you know who ; but if you had taken a 
friend's advice, you'd never have come away 
from Doncaster races with a flea in your ear!" 

There was a secret sting in this speech that 
seemed quite to disconcert Master Simon. He 
jerked away his hand in a pet, smacked his 
whip, whistled to his dogs, and intimated that 
it was high time to go home. The girl, how- 
ever, was determined not to lose her harvest. 
She now turned upon me, and, as I have a 
weakness of spirit where there is a pretty face 
concerned, she soon wheedled me out of my 
money, and in return read me a fortune which, 
if it prove true, and I am determined to believe 
it, will make me one of the luckiest men in the 
chronicles of Cupid. 

I saw that the Oxonian was at the bottom of 
all this oracular mystery, and was disposed to 
amuse himself with the general, whose tender 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 107 

approaches to the widow have attracted the 
notice of the wag. I was a little curious, how- 
ever, to know the meaning of the dark hints 
which had so suddenly disconcerted Master 
Simon ; and took occasion to fall in the rear 
with the Oxonian on our way home, when he 
laughed heartily at my questions, and gave me 
ample information on the subject. 

The truth of the matter is, that Master 
Simon has met with a sad rebuff since my 
Christmas visit to the Hall. He used at that 
time to be joked about a widow, a fine dashing 
w^oman, as he privately informed me. I had 
supposed the pleasure he betrayed on these oc- 
casions resulted from the usual fondness of old 
bachelors for being teased about getting mar- 
ried, and about flirting, and being fickle and 
false-hearted. I am assured, however, that 
Master Simon had really persuaded himself the 
widow had a kindness for him ; in consequence 
of which he had been at some extraordinary 
expense in new clothes, and had actually got 
Frank Bracebridge to order him a coat from 
Stultz. He began to throw out hints about 
the importance of a man's settling himself in 
life before he grew old ; he would look grave 
whenever the widow and matrimony were 
mentioned in the same sentence ; and privately 
asked the opinion of the squire and parson 
about the prudence of marrying a widow with 
a rich jointure, but who had several children. 

An important member of a great family con- 
nection cannot harp much upon the theme of 
matrimony without its taking wind; and it 



108 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

soon got buzzed about that Mr. Simon Brace- 
bridge was actually gone to Doncaster races 
with a new horse, but that he meant to return 
in a curricle with a lady by his side. Master 
Simon did, indeed, go to the races, and that 
with a new horse ; and the dashing widow did 
make her appearance in her curricle ; but it 
was unfortunately driven by a strapping young 
Irish dragoon, with whom even Master Simon's 
self-complacency would not allow him to enter 
into competition, and to whom she was mar- 
ried shortly after. 

It was a matter of sore chagrin to Master 
Simon for several months, having never be- 
fore been fully committed. The dullest head 
in the family had a joke upon him; and there 
is on one that likes less to be bantered than an 
absolute joker. He took refuge for a time at 
Lady Lillycraft's, until the matter should blow 
over; and occupied himself by looking over 
her accounts, regulating the village choir, and 
inculcating loyalty into a pet bullfinch by 
teaching him to whistle "God save the 
king." 

He has now pretty nearly recovered from 
the mortification; holds up his head, and 
laughs as much as any one; again affects to 
pity married men, and is particularly facetious 
about widows, when Lady Lillycraft is not by. 
His only time of trial is when the general gets 
hold of him, who is infinitely heavy and perse- 
vering in his waggery, and will interweave a 
dull joke through the various topics of a whole 
dinner-time. Master Simon often parries 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 109 

these attacks by a stanza from his old work of 
** Cupid's Solicitor for Love:" 

•' 'Tis in vain to woo a widow over long, 
In once or twice her mind you may perceive ; 

Widows are subtle, be they old or young, 
And by their wiles young men they will deceive." 



110 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



LOVE-CHARMS. 

Come, do not weep, my girl, 



Forget him, pretty pensiveness ; there will 
Come others, every day, as good as he. 

Sir J. Suckling. 

The approach of a wedding in a family is 
always an event of great importance, but par- 
ticularly so in a household like this, in a retired 
part of the country. Master Simon, who is a 
pervading spirit, and, through means of the 
butler and housekeeper, knows everything 
that goes forward, tells me that the maid-serv- 
ants are continually trying their fortunes, and 
that the servants' hall has of late been quite a 
scene of incantation. 

It is amusing to notice how the oddities of 
the head of a family flow down through all the 
branches. The squire, in the indulgence of 
his love of everything that smacks of old times, 
has held so many grave conversations with the 
parson at table, about popular superstitions and 
traditional rites, that they have been carried 
from the parlor to the kitchen by the listening 
domestics, and, being apparently sanctioned 
by such high authorities, the whole house 
has become infected bj^ them. 

The servants are all versed in the common 
modes of trying luck, and the charms to ensure 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. Ill 

constancy. They read their fortunes by draw- 
ing strokes in the ashes, or by repeating a form 
of words, and looking in a pail of water. St. 
Mark's Eve, I am told, was a busy time with 
them; being an appointed night for certain 
mystic ceremonies. Several of them sowed 
hemp-seed, to be reaped by their true lovers ; 
and they even ventured upon the solemn and 
fearful preparation of the dumb-cake. This 
must be done fasting and in silence. The 
ingredients are handed down in traditional 
form; — "An egg-shell full of salt, an egg-shell 
full of malt, and an egg-shell full of barley 
meal. ' ' When the cake is ready, it is put upon 
a pan over the fire, and the future husband will 
appear, turn the cake, and retire; but if a 
word is spoken, or a fast is broken, during this 
awful ceremony, there is no knowing what 
horrible consequence would ensue ! 

The experiments in the present instance 
came to no result ; they that sowed the hemp- 
seed forgot the magic rhyme that they were to 
pronounce, so the true lover never appeared; 
and as to the dumb-cake, what between an 
awful stillness they had to keep, and the awful- 
ness of the midnight hour, their hearts failed 
them when they had put the cake in the pan, 
so that, on the striking of the great house-clock 
in the servants' hall, they were seized with a 
sudden panic, and ran out of the room, to 
which they did not return until morning, when 
they found the mystic cake burnt to a cinder. 

The most persevering at these spells, how- 
ever, is Phoebe Wilkins, the housekeeper's 



112 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

niece. As she is a kind of privileged person- 
age, and rather idle, she has more time to 
occupy herself with these matters. She has 
always had her head full of love and matri- 
mony, she knows the dreaming book by heart, 
and is quite an oracle among the little girls of 
the family, who always come to her to intrepret 
their dreams in the mornings. 

During the present gayety of the house, how- 
ever, the poor girl has worn a face full of 
trouble; and, to use the housekeeper's words, 
"has fallen into a sad hystericky way lately. " 
It seems that she was born and brought up in 
the village, where her father was parish-clerk, 
and she was an early playmate and sweetheart 
of young Jack Tibbets. Since she has come to 
live at the Hall, however, her head has been a 
little turned. Being very pretty, and natur- 
ally genteel, she has been much noticed and 
indulged: and being the housekeeper's niece, 
she has held an equivocal station between a 
servant and a companion, she has learnt some- 
thing of fashions and notions among the young 
ladies, which have effected quite a metamor- 
phosis; insomuch that her finery at church on 
Sundays has given mortal offence to her former 
intimates in the village. This has occasioned 
the misrepresentations which have awakened 
the implacable family pride of Dame Tibbets. 
But what is worse, Phoebe, having a spice of 
coquetry in her disposition, showed it on one 
or two occasions to her lover, which produced 
a downright quarrel; and Jack, being very 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 113 

prond and fiery, has absolutely turned his back 
upon her for several successive Sundays. 

The poor girl is full of sorrow and repent- 
ance, and would fain make up with her lover; 
but he feels his security, and stands aloof. In 
this he is doubtless encouraged by his mother, 
who is continually reminding him of what he 
owes to his family ; for this same family pride 
seems doomed to be the eternal bane of lovers. 

As I hate to see a pretty face in trouble, I 
have felt quite concerned for the luckless 
Phoebe, ever since I heard her story. It is a 
sad thing to be thwarted in love at any time, 
but particularly so at this tender season of 
the year, when every living thing, even to the 
very butterfly, is sporting with its mate ; and 
the green fields and the budding groves, and 
the singing of the birds, and the sweet smell 
of the flowers, are enough to turn the head of 
a love-sick girl. I am told that the coolness of 
young Ready-Money lies heavy at poor 
Phoebe's heart. Instead of singing about the 
house as formerly, she goes about, pale and 
sighing, and is apt to break into tears when 
her companions are full of merriment. 

Mrs. Hannah, the vestal gentlewoman of 
my Lady Lillycraft, has had long talks and 
walks with Phoebe, up and down the avenue, 
of an evening, and has endeavored to squeeze 
some of her own verjuice into the other's 
milky nature. She speaks with contempt and 
abhorrence of the whole sex, and advises 
Phoebe to despise all the men as heartily as 
she does. But Phoebe's loving temper is not 

8 Bracebridlge 



114 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

to be curdled ; she has no such thing as hatred 
or contempt for mankind in her whole composi- 
tion. She has all the simple fondness of heart 
of poor, weak, loving women; and her only 
thoughts at present are, how to conciliate and 
reclaim her wayward swain. 

The spells and love-charms, which are mat- 
ters of sport to the other domestics, are serious 
concerns with this love-stricken damsel. She 
is continually trying'her fortune in a variety 
of ways. I am told that she has absolutely 
fasted for six Wednesdays, and three Fridays 
successively, having understood that it was a 
sovereign charm to ensure being married to 
one's liking within the year. She carries 
about, also, a lock of her sweetheart's hair, and 
a ribbon he once gave her, being a mode of 
producing constancy in her lover. She even 
went so far as to try her fortune by the moon, 
which has always had much to do with lovers' 
dreams and fancies. For this purpose she 
went out in the night of the full moon, knelt 
on a stone in the meadow, and repeated the old 
traditional rhyme: — 

"All hail to thee, moon, all hail to thee: 
I pray to thee good moon, now show to me 
The youth who my future husband will be. ' ' 

When she came back to the house, she was 
faint and pale, and went immediately to bed. 
The next morning she told the porter's wife 
that she had seen some one close by the 
hedge in the meadow, which she was sure was 
young Tibbets ; at any rate, she had dreamt of 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 115 

him all night; both of which, the old dame 
assured her, were most happy signs. It has 
since turned out that the person in the meadow 
was old Christy, the huntsman, who was walk- 
ing his nightly rounds with the great stag- 
hound; so that Phoebe's faith in the charm is 
completely shaken. 



116 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



A BACHELOR'S CONFESSIONS. 

I'll have a private, pensive single life. 

The Collier of Croydon. 

I was sitting in my room a morning or two 
since, reading, when some one tapped at the 
door, and Master Simon entered. He had an 
unusually fresh appearance ; he had put on a 
bright green riding-coat, with a bunch of vio- 
lets in the button-hole, and had the air of an 
old bachelor trying to rejuvenate himself. He 
had not, however, his usual briskness and 
vivacity, but loitered about the room with 
somewhat of absence of manner, humming the 
old song, — "Go, lovely rose, tell her that wastes 
her time and me;" and then, leaning against 
the window and looking upon the landscape, 
he uttered a very audible sigh. As I had not 
been accustomed to see Master Simon in a 
pensive mood, I thought there might be some 
vexation praying on his mind, and I endeav- 
ored to introduce a cheerful strain of conversa- 
tion ; but he was not in the vein to follov/ it 
up, and proposed that we should take a walk. 

It was a beautiful morning, of that soft vernal 
temperature, that seems to thaw all the frost 
out of one's blood, and to set all nature in a 
ferment. The very fishes felt its influence: 
the cautious trout ventured out of his dark hole 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 117 

to seek his mate, the roach and the dace rose 
up to the surface of the brook to bask in the 
sunshine, and the amorous frog piped from 
among- the rushes. If ever an oyster can really 
fall in love, as has been said or sung, it must 
be on such a morning. 

The weather certainlj^ had its effect even 
upon Master Simon, for he seemed obstinately 
bent upon the pensive mood. Instead of 
stepping briskly along, smacking his dog-whip, 
whistling quaint ditties, or telling sporting 
anecdotes, he leaned on my arm, and talked 
about the approaching nuptials; from whence 
he made several digressions upon the character 
of womankind, touched a little upon the tender 
passion, and made sundry very excellent, 
though rather trite, observations upon disap- 
pointments in love. It was evident that he 
had something on his mind which he wished to 
impart, but felt awkward in approaching it. I 
was curious to see to what this strain would 
lead ; but I was determined not to assist him. 
Indeed, I mischievously pretended to turn the 
conversation, and talked of his usual topics, 
dogs, horses, and hunting; but he was very 
brief in his replies, and invariably got back, by 
hook or by crook, into the sentimental vein. 

At length we came to a clump of trees that 
overhung a whispering brook, with a rustic 
bench at their feet. The trees were grievously 
scored with letters and devices, which had 
grown out of all shape and size by the growth 
of the bark; and it appeared that this grove 
had served as a kind of register of the family 



118 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

loves from time immemorial. Here Master 
Simon made a pause, pulled up a tuft of 
flowers, threw them one by one into the water, 
and at length, turning somewhat abruptly upon 
me, asked me if ever I had been in love. I 
confess the question startled me a little, as I 
am not over fond of making confessions of my 
amorous follies; and, above all, should never 
dream of choosing my friend Master Simon for 
a confidant. He did not wait, however, for a 
reply; the inquiry was merely a prelude to a 
confession on his own part, and after several 
circumlocutions and whimsical preambles, he 
fairly disburthened himself of a very tolerable 
stor}/ of his having been crossed in love. 

The reader will, very probably, suppose that 
it related to the gay widow who jilted him no-t 
long since at Doncaster races; — no such thing. 
It was about a sentimental passion that he 
once had for a most beautiful young lady, who 
wrote poetry and played on the harp. He used 
to serenade her; and, indeed, he described 
several tender and gallant scenes, in which he 
v^as evidently picturing himself in his mind's 
eye as some elegant hero of romance, though 
unfortunately for the tale, I only saw him as 
he stood before me, a dapper little old bach- 
elor, with a face like an apple that has dried 
with the bloom on it. 

What were the particulars of this tender tale 
I have already forgotten ; indeed, I listened to 
it with a heart like a very pebble stone, hav- 
ing hard work to repress a smile while Master 
Simon was putting on the amorous swain, ut- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 119 

tering, every now and then, a sigh, and endeav- 
oring to look sentimental and melancholy. 

All that I recollect is, that the lady, accord- 
ing to his account, was certainly a little 
touched; for she used to accept all the music 
that he copied for her harp, and all the pat- 
terns that he drew for her dresses; and he be- 
gan to flatter himself, after a long course of 
delicate attentions, that he was gradually fan- 
ning up a gentle flame in her heart, when she 
suddenly accepted the hand of a rich, boister- 
ous, fox-hunting baronet, without either music 
or sentiment, who carried her by storm, after 
a fortnight's courtship. 

Master Simon could not help concluding by 
some observation upon "modest merit," and 
the power of gold over the sex. As a remem- 
brance of his passion, he pointed out a heart 
carved on the bark of one of the trees; but 
which, in the process of time, had grown out 
into a large excrescence ; and he showed me a 
lock of her hair, which he wore in a true lov- 
er's knot, in a large gold brooch. 

I have seldom met with an old bachelor that 
had not, at some time or other, his nonsensical 
moment, when he would become tender and 
sentimental, talk about the concerns of the 
heart, and have some confession of a delicate 
nature to make. Almost every man has some 
little trait of romance in his life, which he 
looks back to with fondness, and about which 
he is apt to grow garrulous occasionally. He 
recollects himself as he was at the time, young 
and gamesome ; and forgets that his hearers 



120 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

have no other idea of the hero of the tale but 
such as he may appear at the time of telling it; 
peradventure, a withered, whimsical, spindle- 
shanked old gentleman. With married men, 
it is true, this is not so frequently the case; 
their amorous romance is apt to decline after 
marriage ; why, I cannot for the life of me im- 
agine; but with a bachelor, though it may 
slumber, it never dies. It is always liable to 
break out again in transient flashes, and never 
so much as on a spring morning in the country ; 
or on a winter evening, when seated in his sol- 
itary chamber, stirring up the fire and talking 
of matrimony. 

The moment that Master Simon had gone 
through his confession, and, to use the com- 
mon phrase, "had made a clean breast of it,'* 
he became quite himself again. He had set- 
tled the point which had been worrying his 
mind, and doubtless considered himself estab- 
lished as a man of sentiment in my opinion. 
Before we had finished our morning's stroll he 
was singing as blithe as a grasshopper, whis- 
tling to his dogs, and telling droll stories; and 
I recollect that he was particularly facetious 
that day at dinner on the subject of matri- 
mony, and uttered several excellent jokes, not 
to be found in Joe Miller, that made the bride- 
elect blush and look down, but set all the old 
gentlemen at the table in a roar, and abso- 
lutely brought tears into the general's eyes. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 121 



GYPSIES. 

What's that to absolute freedom, such as the very beg- 
gars have ; to feast and revel here to-day, and yon- 
der to-morrow; next day where they please; and 
so on still, the whole country or kingdom over? 
There's liberty! the birds of the air can take no 
more. Jovial Crew. 

Since the meeting with the gypsies, which I 
have related in a former paper, I have observed 
several of them haunting the purlieus of the 
Hall, in spite of a positive interdiction of the 
squire. They are part of a gang that has long 
kept about this neighborhood; to the great an- 
noyance of the farmers, whose poultry-yards 
often suffer from their nocturnal invasions. 
They are, however, in some measure, patron- 
ized by the squire, who considers the race as 
belonging to the good old times; which, to 
confess the private truth, seem to have 
abounded with good-for-nothing characters. 

This roving crew is called "Starlight Tom's 
Gang," from the name of its chieftain, a noto- 
rious poacher. I have heard repeatedly of the 
misdeeds of this "minion of the moon"; for 
every midnight depredation that takes place in 
park, or fold, or farm-yard, is laid to his 
charge. Starlight Tom, in fact, answers to 
his name ; he seems to walk in darkness, and, 
like a fox, to be traced in the morning by the 



122 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

mischief he has done. He reminds me of that 
fearful personage in the nursery rhyme: 

"Who goes round the house at night? 
None but bloody Tom ! 
Who steals all the sheep at night? 
None but one by one!" 

In shott, Starlight Tom is the scapegoat of 
the neighborhood; but so cunning and adroit, 
that there is no detecting him. Old Christy 
and the gamekeeper have watched many a night 
in hopes of entrapping him ; and, Christy often 
patrols the park with his dogs, for the purpose, 
but all in vain. It is said that the squire 
winks hard at his misdeeds, having an indulg- 
ent feeling towards the vagabond, because of 
his being very expert at all kinds of games, a 
great shot with the crossbow, and the best 
morris dancer in the country. 

The squire also suffers the gang to lurk un- 
molested about the skirts of his estate, on con- 
dition that they do not come about the house. 
The approaching wedding, however, has made 
a kind of Saturnalia at the Hall, and has 
caused a suspension of all sober rule. It has 
produced a great sensation throughout the fe- 
male part of the household ; not a housemaid 
but dreams of wedding favors, and has a hus- 
band running in her head. Such a time is a 
harvest for the gypsies; there is a public foot- 
path leading across one part of the park, by 
which they have free ingress, and they are 
continually hovering about the grounds, telling 
the servant girls' fortunes, or getting smug- 
gled in to the young ladies. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 123 

I believe the Oxonian amuses himself very 
much by furnishing them with hints in pri- 
vate, and bewildering all the weak brains in 
the house with their wonderful revelations. 
The general certainty was very much aston- 
ished by the communications made to him the 
other evening by the gypsy girl: he kept a 
wary silence towards us on the subject, and 
affected to treat it lightly ; but I have noticed 
that he has since redoubled his attentions to 
Lady Lillycraft and her dogs. 

I have seen also Phoebe Wilkins, the house- 
keeper's pretty and love-sick niece, holding a 
long conference with one of these old sibyls 
behind a large tree in the avenue, and often 
looking round to see that she was not ob- 
served. I make no doubt that she was endeav- 
oring to get some favorable augury about the 
result of her love quarrel with young Ready- 
Money, as oracles have always been more con- 
sulted on love affairs than upon anything else. 
I fear, however, that in this instance the re- 
sponse was not so favorable as usual, for I per- 
ceived poor Phoebe returning pensively 
towards the house ; her head hanging down, her 
hat in her hand, and the ribbon trailing along 
the ground. 

At another time, as I turned a comer of a 
terrace, at the bottom of the garden, just by a 
clump of trees, and a large stone urn, I came 
upon a bevy of the young girls of the family, 
attended by this same Phoebe Wilkins. I was 
at a loss to comprehend the meaning of their 
blushing and giggling, and their apparent agi- 



124 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

tation, until I saw the red cloak of a gypsy 
vanishing among the shrubbery. A few mo- 
ments later, I caught sight of Master Simon 
and the Oxonian stealing along one of the 
walks of the garden, chuckling and laughing 
at their successful waggery; having evidently 
put the gypsy up to the thing, and instructed 
her what to say. 

After all, there is something strangely pleas- 
ing in these tamperings with the future, even 
where we are convinced of the fallacy of the 
prediction. It is singular how willingly the 
mind will half deceive itself, and with what a 
degree of awe we will listen even to these bab- 
blers about futurity. For my part, I cannot 
feel angry with these poor vagabonds, that 
seek to deceive us into bright hopes and expec- 
tations. I have always been something of a 
castle-builder, and have found my liveliest 
pleasures to arise from the illusions which 
fancy has cast over commonplace realities. 
As I get on in life I find it more difficult to de- 
ceive myself in this delightful manner; and I 
should be thankful to any prophet, however 
false, that would conjure the clouds which 
hang over futurity into palaces, and all its 
doubtful regions into fairyland. 

The squire, who, as I have observed, has a 
private good will towards gypsies, has suffered 
considerable annoyance on their account. Not 
that they requite his indulgence with ingrati- 
tude, for they do not depredate very flagrantly 
on his estate ; but because their pilferings and 
misdeeds occasion loud murmurs in the village. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 125 

I can readily understand the old gentleman's 
humor on this point ; I have a great toleration 
for all kinds of vagrant, sunshiny existence, 
and must confess I take a pleasure in observ- 
ing the ways of gypsies. The English, who 
are accustomed to them from childhood, and 
often suffer from their petty depredations, 
consider them as mere nuisances ; but I have 
been very much struck with their peculiarities. 
I like to behold their clear olive complexions, 
their romantic black eyes, their raven locks, 
their lithe, slender figures, and to hear them, 
in low, silver tones, dealing forth magnificent 
promises of honors and estates, of world's 
worth, and ladies' love. 

Their mode of life, too, has something in it 
very fanciful and picturesque. They are the 
free denizens of nature, and maintain a prim- 
itive independence, in spite of law and gospel ; 
of county jails and country magistrates. It is 
curious to see the obstinate adherence to the 
wild, unsettled habits of savage life transmit- 
ted from generation to generation, and pre- 
served in the midst of one of the most culti- 
vated, populous, and systematic countries in 
the world. They are totally distinct from the 
busy, thrifty people about them. They seem 
to be like the Indians of America, either above 
or below the ordinary cares and anxieties of 
mankind. Heedless of power, of honors, of 
wealth ; and indifferent to the fluctuations of 
the times, the rise or fall of grain, or stock, or 
empires, they seem to laugh at the toiling, 



126 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

fretting world around them, and to live accord- 
ing to the philosophy of the old song : 



"Who would ambition shun, 
And loves to lie i' the sun, 
Seeking the food he eats, 
And pleased with what he gets, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither ; 
Here shall he see 
No enemy, 
But winter and rough weather." 



In this way they wander from county to 
county, keeping about the purlieus of villages, 
or in plenteous neighborhoods, where there are 
fat farms and rich country seats. Their en- 
campments are generally made in some beau- 
tiful spot ; either a green shady nook of a road ; 
or on the border of a common, under a shelter- 
ing hedge ; or on the skirts of a fine spreading 
wood. They are always to be found lurking 
about fairs and races, and rustic gather- 
ings, wherever their is pleasure, and throng, 
and idleness. They are the oracles of milk- 
maids and simple serving girls ; and sometimes 
have even the honor of perusing the white 
hands of gentlemen's daughters, when ramb- 
ling about their father's grounds. They are 
the bane of good housewives and thrifty farm- 
ers, and odious in the eyes of country justices; 
but, like all other vagabond beings, they have 
something to commend them to the fancy. 
They are among the last traces, in these mat- 
ter-of-fact days, of the motley population of 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 127 

former times; and are whimsically associated 
in my mind with fairies and witches, Robin 
Goodfellow, Robin Hood, and the other fan- 
tastical personages of poetry. 



128 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



VILLAGE WORTHIES. 

Nay, I tell you, I am so well beloved in our town, that 
not the worst dog in the street would hurt my little 
finger. 

Collier of Croydon. 

As the neighboring village is one of those 
out-of-the-way, but gossiping little places, 
where a small matter makes a great stir, it is 
not to be supposed that the approach of a fes- 
tival like that of May-Day can be regarded with 
indifference, especially since it is made a mat- 
ter of such moment by the great folks at 
the Hall. Master Simon, who is the faith- 
ful factotum of the worthy squire, and 
jumps with his humor in everything, is 
frequent just now in his visits to the vil- 
lage, to give directions for the impend- 
ing fete; and as I have taken the liberty 
occasionally of accompanying him, I have been 
enabled to get some insight into the characters 
and internal politics of this very sagacious lit- 
tle community. 

Master Simon is in fact the Caesar of the vil- 
lage. It is true the squire is the protecting 
power, but his factotum is the active and busy 
agent. He intermeddles in all its concerns, is 
acquainted with all the inhabitants and their 
domestic history, gives counsel to the old folks 
in their business matters, and the young folks 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 129 

in their love affairs, and enjoys the proud satis- 
faction of being a great man in a little world. 
He is the dispenser, too, of the squire's 
charity, which is bounteous; and, to do Mas- 
ter Simon justice, he performs this part of his 
functions with great alacrity. Indeed I have 
been entertained with the mixture of bustle, 
importance, and kindheartedness which he 
displays. He is of too vivacious a tempera- 
ment to comfort the afflicted by sitting down 
moping and whining and blowing noses in 
concert; but goes whisking about like a spar- 
row, chirping consolation into every hole and 
corner of the village. I have seen an old 
woman, in a red cloak, hold him for half an 
hour together with some long phthisical tale 
of distress, which Master Simon listened to 
with many a bob of the head, smack of his 
dog-whip, and other symptoms of impatience, 
though he afterwards made a most faithful 
and circumstantial report of the case to the 
squire. I have watched him, too, during one 
of his pop visits into the cottage of a super- 
annuated villager, who is a pensioner of the 
squire, when he fidgeted about the room with- 
out sitting down, made many excellent off- 
hand reflections with the old invalid, who was 
propped up in his chair, about the shortness 
of life, the certainty of death, and the neces- 
sity of preparing for "that awful change"; 
quoted several texts of Scripture very incor- 
rectly, but much to the edification of the cot- 
tager's wife; and on coming out pinched the 
daughter's rosy cheek, and wondered what was 

9 Bracebridge 



130 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

in the young men, that such a pretty face did 
not get a husband. 

He has also his cabinet councillors in the vil- 
lage, with whom he is very busy just now, 
preparing for the May-Day ceremonies. 
Among these is the village tailor, a pale-faced 
fellow, that plays the clarionet in the church 
choir; and, being a great musical genius, has 
frequent meetings of the band at his house, 
where they *'make night hideous" by their 
concerts. He is, in consequence, high in favor 
with Master Simon; and, through his influence, 
has the making, or rather marring, of all the 
liveries of the Hall; which generally look as 
though they had been cut out by one of those 
scientific tailors of the Flying Island of 
Laputa, who took measure of their customers 
with a quadrant. The tailor, in fact, might 
rise to be one of the monied men of the vil- 
lage, was he not rather too prone to gossip, 
and keep holidays, and give concerts, and blow 
all his substance, real and personal, through 
his clarionet, which literally keeps him poor 
both in body and estate. He has for the pres- 
ent thrown by all his regular work, and 
suffered the breeches of the village to go un- 
made and unmended, while he is occupied in 
making garlands of parti-colored rags, in imi- 
tation of flowers, for the decoration of the 
May-Pole. 

Another of Master Simon's councillors is the 
apothecary, a short, and rather fat man, with 
a pair of prominent eyes, that diverge like 
those of a lobster. He is the village wise 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 131 

man ; very sententious ; and full of profound 
remarks on shallow subjects. Master Simon 
often quotes his sayings, and mentions him as 
rather an extraordinary man ; and even con- 
sults him occasionally in desperate cases of the 
dogs and horses. Indeed he seems to have 
been overwhelmed by the apothecary's philos- 
ophy, which is exactly one observation deep, 
consisting of indisputable maxims, such as 
may be gathered from the mottoes of tobacco 
boxes. I had a specimen of his philosophy in 
my very first conversation with him; in the 
course of which he observed, with great solem- 
nity and emphasis, that **man is a compound 
of wisdom and folly;" upon which Master 
Simon, who had hold of my arm, pressed very 
hard upon it, and whispered in my ear, 
* 'That's a devilish shrewd remark!" 



132 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



THE SCHOOLMASTER. 

There will no mosse stick to the stone of Sisiphus, no 
grasse hang on the heels of Mercury, no butter 
cleave on the bread of s traveller. For as the eagle 
at every flight loseth a feather, v/hich maketh her 
bauld in her age, so the traveller in every country 
loseth some fleece, which maketh him a beggar in 
his youth, by buying that for a pound which he 
cannot sell again for a penny — repentance. 

Lilly's Euphues. 

Among the worthies of the village, that en- 
joy the peculiar confidence of Master Simon, 
is one who has struck my fancy so much that I 
have thought him worthy of a separate notice. 
It is Slingsby, the schoolmaster, a thin, 
elderly man, rather threadbare and slovenly, 
somewhat indolent in manner, and with an 
easy, good-humored look, not often met with 
in his craft. I have been interested in his 
favor by a few anecdotes which I have picked 
up concerning him. 

He is a native of the village, and was a con- 
temporary and playmate of Ready-Money Jack 
in the days of their boyhood. Indeed, they 
carried on a kind of league of mutual good 
offices. Slingsby was rather puny, and withal 
somewhat of a coward, but very apt at his 
learning; Jack, on the contrary, was a bully 
boy out of doors, but a sad laggard at his 
books. Slingsby helped Jack, therefore, to all 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 133 

his lessons: Jack fought all Slingsby's battles; 
and they were inseparable friends. This 
mutual kindne,ss continued even after they left 
school, notwithstanding the dissimilarity of 
their characters. Jack took to ploughing and 
reaping, and prepared himself to till his pater- 
nal acres ; while the other loitered negligently 
on in the path of learning, until he penetrated 
even into the confines of Latin and mathe- 
matics. 

In an unlucky hour, however, he took to 
reading voyages and travels, and was smitten 
with a desire to see the world. This desire 
increased upon him as he grew up; so, early 
one bright, sunny morning, he put all his 
effects in a knapsack, slung it on his back, took 
staff in hand, and called in his way to take 
leave of his early schoolmate. Jack was just 
going out with the plough ; the friends shook 
hands over the farm-house gate; Jack drove 
his team afield, and Slingsby whistled "Over 
the hills, and far away," and sallied forth 
gayly *'to seek his fortune." 

Years and years passed by, and young Tom 
Slingsby was forgotten; when, one mellow 
Sunday afternoon in autumn, a thin man, 
somewhat advanced in life, with a coat out at 
elbows, a pair of old nankeen gaiters, and a 
few things tied in a handkerchief and slung 
on the end of a stick, was seen loitering 
through the village. He appeared to regard 
several houses attentively, to peer into the 
windows that were open, to eye the villagers 
wistfully as they returned from church, and 



134 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

then to pass some time in the churchyard, 
reading the tombstones. 

At length he found his way to the farm- 
house of Ready- Money Jack, but paused ere 
he attempted the wicket; contemplating the 
picture of substantial independence before 
him. In the porch of the house sat Ready- 
Money Jack, in his Sunday dress, with his hat 
upon his head, his pipe in his mouth, and his 
tankard before him, the monarch of all he sur- 
veyed. Beside him lay his fat house-dog. 
The varied sounds of poultry were heard from 
the well-stocked farm-yard ; the bees hummed 
from their hives in the garden; the cattle 
lowed in the rich meadow, while the crammed 
barns and ample stacks bore proof of an abun- 
dant harvest. 

The stranger opened the gate and advanced 
dubiously towards the house. The mastiff 
growled at the sight of the suspicious-looking 
intruder, but was immediately silenced by his 
master, who, taking his pipe from his mouth, 
awaited with inquiring aspect the address of 
this equivocal personage. The stranger eyed 
old Jack for a moment, so portly in his dimen- 
sions, and decked out in gorgeous apparel; 
then cast a glance upon his own threadbare 
and starveling condition, and the scanty bun- 
dle which he held in his hand ; then giving his 
shrunk waistcoat a twitch to make it meet his 
receding waistband ; and casting another look, 
half sad, half humorous at the sturdy yeo- 
man, *'I suppose," said he, "Mr. Tibbets, you 
have forgot old times and old playmates?" 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 135 

The latter gazed at him with scrutinizing 
look, but acknowledged that he had no recol- 
lection of him. 

"Like enough, like enough," said the 
stranger; "everybody seems to have forgotten 
poor Slingsby!" 

"Why, no sure! it can't be Tom Slingsby?" 

"Yes, but it is, though!" replied the 
stranger, shaking his head. 

Ready-Money Jack was on his feet in a 
twinkhng; thrust out his hand, gave his 
ancient crony the gripe of a giant, and slap- 
ping the other hand on a bench, "Sit down 
there," cried he, "Tom Slingsby!" 

A long conversation ensued about old times, 
while Slingsby was regaled with the best cheer 
that the farm-house afforded; for he was 
hungry as well as wayworn, and had the keen 
appetite of a poor pedestrian. The early play- 
mates then talked over the subsequent lives 
and adventures. Jack had but little to relate, 
and was never good at a long story. A pros- 
perous life, passed at home, has little incident 
for narrative; it is only poor devils, that are 
tossed about the world, that are the true 
heroes of story. Jack had stuck by the pater- 
nal farm, followed the same plough that his 
forefathers had driven, and had waxed richer 
jand richer as he grew older. As to Tom 
"slingsby, he was an exemplification of the old 
proverb, "A rolling stone gathers no moss." 
He had sought his fortune about the world, 
. without ever finding it, being a thing 
often«er found at home than abroad. He had 



136 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

been in all kinds of situations, and had learned 
a dozen different modes of making a living ; but 
had found his way back to his native village 
rather poorer than when he left it, his knap- 
sack having dwindled down to a scanty bundle. 

As luck wou'M have it, the squire was pass- 
ing by the farm-house that very evening, and 
called there, as is often his custom. He found 
the two schoolmates all gossiping in the porch, 
and, according to the good old Scottish song, 
** taking a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang 
syne. " The squire was struck by the contrast 
in appearance and fortunes of these early 
playmates. Ready-Money Jack, seated in 
lordly state, surrounded by the good things of 
this life, with golden guineas hanging to his 
very watch chain, and the poor pilgrim Slings- 
by, thin as a weasel, with all his worldly 
effects, his bundle, hat, and walking-staff, 
lying on the ground beside him. 

The good squire's heart warmed towards the 
luckless cosmopolite, for he is a little prone to 
like such half-vagrant characters. He cast 
about in his mind how he should contrive once 
more to anchor Slingsby in his native village. 
Honest Jack had already offered him a present 
shelter under his roof, in spite of the hints, 
and winks, and half remonstrances of the 
shrewd Dame Tibbets ; but how to provide for 
his permanent maintenance was the question. 
Luckily the squire bethought himself that 
the village school was without a teacher. A 
little further conversation convinced him that 
Slingsby was as fit for that as for anything 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 137 

else, and in a day or two he was seen swaying 
the rod of empire in the very school-house 
where he had often been horsed in the days of 
his boyhood. 

Here he has remained for several years, and 
being honored by the countenance of the 
squire, and the fast friendship of Mr. Tibbets, 
he has grown into much importance and con- 
sideration in the village. I am told, however, 
that he still shows, now and then, a degree of 
restlessness, and a disposition to rove abroad 
again, and see a little more of the world; an 
inclination which seems particularly to haunt 
him about spring-time. There is nothing so 
difficult to conquer as the vagrant humor, 
when once it has been fully indulged. 

Since I have heard these anecdotes of poor 
Slingsby, I have more than once mused upon 
the picture presented by him and his school- 
mate Ready-Money Jack, on their coming to- 
gether after so long a separation. It is diffi- 
cult to determine between lots in life, where 
each is attended with its peculiar discontents. 
He who never leaves his home repines at his 
monotonous existence, and envies the trav- 
eler, whose life is a constant tissue of wonder 
and adventure, while he who is tossed about 
the world, looks back with many a sigh to the 
safe and quiet shore which he has abandoned. 
I cannot help thinking, however, that the man 
that stays at home, and cultivates the comforts 
and pleasures daily springing up around him, 
stands the best chance for happiness. There 
is nothing so fascinating to a young mind as 



138 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

the idea of traveling; and there is very 
witchcraft in the old phrase found in 
every nursery tale, of *'going to seek one's 
fortune." A continual change of place, 
and change of object, promises a con- 
tinual succession of adventure and grati- 
fication of curiosity. But there is a limit 
to all our enjoyments, and every desire bears 
its death in its very gratification. Curiosity 
languishes under repeated stimulants, novel- 
ties cease to excite surprise, until at length 
we cannot wonder even at a miracle. He who 
has sallied forth into the world, like poor 
Slingsby, full of sunny anticipations, finds too 
soon how different the distant scene becomes 
when visited. The smooth place roughens as 
he approaches ; the wild place becomes tame 
and barren ; the fairy tints that beguiled him 
on still fly to the distant hill, or gather upon the 
land he has left behind, and every part of the 
landscape seems greener than the spot he 
stands on. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 139 



THE SCHOOL. 

But to come down from great men and higher matters 
to my little children and poor school-house again ; I 
will, God willing, go forward orderly, as I proposed, 
to instruct children and young men both for learning 
and manners. Roger Ascham. 

Having given the reader a slight sketch of 
the village schoolmaster, he may be curious to 
learn something concerning his school. As 
the squire takes much interest in the educa- 
tion of the neighboring children, he put into 
the hands of the teacher, on first installing 
him in office, a copy of Roger Ascham 's 
Schoolmaster, and advised him, moreover, to 
con over that portion of old Peachum which 
treats of the duty of masters, and which con- 
demns the favorite method of making boys 
wise by flagellation. 

He exhorted Slingsby not to break down or 
depress the free spirit of the boys by harsh- 
ness and slavish fear, but to lead them freely 
and joyously on in the path of knowledge, 
making it pleasant and desirable in their eyes. 
He wished to see the youth trained up in the 
manners and habitudes of the peasantry of 
the good old times, and thus lay the foundation 
for the accomplishment of his favorite object, 
the revival of old English customs and charac- 
ter. He recommended that all the ancient 



•140 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

holidays should be observed, and that the 
sports of the boys, in their hours of play, 
should be regulated according to the standard 
authorities laid down by Strutt; a copy of 
whose invaluable work, decorated with plates, 
was deposited in the schoolhouse. Above 
all, he exhorted the pedagogue to abstain from 
the use of birch, an instrument of instruction 
which the good squire regards with abhorrence, 
as fit only for the coercion of brute natures, 
that cannot be reasoned with. 

Mr. Slingsby has followed the squire's in- 
structions to the best of his disposition and 
abilities. He never flogs the boys, because he 
is too easy, good-humored a creature to inflict 
pain on a worm. He is bountiful in holidays, 
because he loves holidays himself, and has a 
sympathy with the urchins' impatience of con- 
finement, from having divers times experienced 
its irksomeness during the time that he was 
seeing the world. As to sports and pastimes, 
the boys are faithfully exercised in all that are 
on record, — quoits, races, prison bars, tipcat, 
trap-ball, bandy-ball, wrestling, leaping, and 
what not. The only misfortune is, that having 
banished the birch, honest Slingsby has not 
studied Roger Ascham sufficiently to find out 
a substitute, or rather he has not the manage- 
ment in his nature to apply one ; his school, 
therefore, though one of the happiest, is one 
of the most unruly in the country; and never 
v/as a pedagogue more liked, or less heeded, 
by his disciples than Slingsby. 

Ke has lately taken a coadjutor worthy of 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 141 

himself, being another stray sheep that has 
returned to the village fold. This is no other 
than the son of the musical tailor, who had 
bestowed some cost upon his education, hoping 
to see him one day arrive at the dignity of an 
exciseman, or at least of a parish clerk. The 
lad grew up, however, as idle and musical as 
his father ; and, being captivated by the drum 
and fife of a recruiting party, he followed 
them off to the army. He returned not long 
since, out of money, and out at elbow, the 
prodigal son of the village. He remained for 
some time lounging about the place in half 
tattered soldier's dress, with a foraging cap on 
one side of his head, jerking stones across the 
brook, or loitering about the tavern door, a 
burthen to his father, and regarded with great 
coldness by all warm householders. 

Something, however, drew honest Slingsby 
toward the youth. It might be the kindness 
he bore to his father, who is one of the school- 
master's greatest cronies; it might be that 
secret sympathy, which draws men of vagrant 
propensities towards each other; for there is 
something truly magnetic in the vagabond 
feeling; or it might be, that he remembered 
the time when he himself had come back, like 
this youngster, a wreck to his native place. 
At any rate, whatever the motive, Slingsby 
drew towards 'the youth. They had many 
conversations in the village tap-room about 
foreign parts, and the various scenes and 
places they had witnessed during their way- 
faring about the world. The more Slingsby 



142 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

talked with him, the more he found him to 
his taste, and finding him almost as learned as 
himself, he forthwith engaged him as an assist- 
ant or usher in the school. 

Under such admirable tuition, the school, as 
may be supposed, flourishes apace; and if the 
scholars do not become versed in all the holi- 
day accomplishments of the good old times, 
to the squire's heart's content, it will not be 
the fault of their teachers. The prodigal son 
has become almost as popular among the boys 
as the pedagogue himself. His instructions 
are not limited to school hours; and having 
inherited the musical taste and talents of his 
father, he has bitten the whole school with the 
mania. He is a great hand at beating a drum, 
which is often heard rumbling from the rear 
of the school-house. He is teaching half the 
boys of the village, also, to play the fife, and 
the pandean pipes; and they weary the whole 
neighborhood with their vague piping, as they 
sit perched on stiles, or loitering about the 
barn-doors in the evening. Among the other 
exercises of the school, also, he has introduced 
the ancient art of archery, one of the squire's 
favorite themes, with such success, that the 
whipsters roam in truant bands about the 
neighborhood, practicing with their bows and 
arrows upon the birds of the air, and the 
beasts of the field; and not unfrequently mak- 
ing a foray into the squire's domains, to the 
great indignation of the gamekeepers. In a 
word, so completely are the ancient English 
customs and habits cultivated at this school, 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 143 

that I should not be surprised if the squire 
should live to see one of his poetic visions 
realized, and a brood reared up, worthy suc- 
cessors to Robin Hood and his merry gang of 
outlaws. 



144 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



A VILLAGE POLITICIAN. 

I am a rogue if I do not think I was designed for the 
helm of state ; I am so full of nimble stratagems, that 
I should have ordered affairs, and carried it against 
the stream of a faction, with as much ease as a skip- 
per would laver against the wind. 

The Goblins. 

In one of my visits to the village with Mas- 
ter Simon, he proposed that we should stop at 
the inn, which he wished to show me, as a 
specimen of a real country inn, the head- 
quarters of village gossip. I had remarked 
it before, in my perambulations about the 
place. It was a deep, old fashioned porch, 
leading into a large hall, which serves for tap- 
room and travelers' room ; having a wide fire- 
place, with high -backed settles on each side, 
where the wise men of the village gossip over 
their ale, and hold their sessions during the 
long winter evenings. The landlord is a»n 
easy, indolent fellow, shaped a little like one 
of his own beer barrels, and is apt to stand 
gossiping at his door, with his wig on one side, 
and his hands in his pockets, whilst his wife 
and daughter attend to customers. His wife, 
however, is fully competent to manage the 
establishment; and, indeed, from long habi- 
tude, rules over all the frequenters of the tap- 
room as completely as if they were her depen- 
dents instead of her patrons. Not a veteran 




" He will seize upon it with avidity." — Page 153. 

Bracebridge Hall. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 145 

ale-bibber but pays homage to her, having, no 
doubt, been often in her arrears. I have 
already hinted that she is on very good terms 
with Ready-Money Jack. He was a sweet- 
heart of hers in early life, and has always 
countenanced the tavern on her account. 
Indeed, he is quite "the cock of the walk" at 
the tap-room. 

As we approached the inn, we heard some 
one talking with great volubility, and distin- 
guished the ominous words "taxes," "poor's 
rates, " and "agricultural distress. " It proved 
to be a thin, loquacious fellow, who had 
penned the landlord up in one corner of the 
porch, with his hands in his pockets, as usual, 
listening with an air of the most vacant acqui- 
escence. 

The sight seemed to have a curious effect on 
Master Simon, as he squeezed my arm, and, 
altering his course, sheered wide of the porch 
as though he had not had any idea of entering. 
This evident evasion induced me to notice the 
orator more particularly. He was meagre, but 
active in his make, with a long, pale, bilious 
face ; a black, ill-shaven beard, a feverish eye, 
and a hat sharpened up at the sides into a most 
pragmatical shape. He had a newspaper in his 
hand, and seemed to be commenting on its 
contents, to the thorough conviction of mine 
host. 

At sight of Master Simon the landlord was 
evidently a little flurried, and began to rub 
his hands, edge away from his corner, and 
make several profound publican bows; while 

10 Bracebridge 



146 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

the orator took no other notice of my compan- 
ion than to talk rather louder than before, and 
with, as I thought, something of an air of 
defiance. Master Simon, however, as I have 
before said, sheered off from the porch, and 
passed on, pressing my arm within his, and 
whispering as we got by, in a tone of awe and 
horror, "That's a radical! he reads Cobbett!" 

I endeavored to get a more particular account 
of him from my companion, but he seemed 
unwilling even to talk about him, answering 
only in general terms, that he was "a cursed 
busy fellow, that had a confounded trick of 
talking, and was apt to bother one about the 
national debt, and such nonsense;" from 
which I suspected that Master Simon had been 
rendered wary of him by some accidental 
encounter on the field of argument ; for these 
radicals are continually roving about in quest 
of wordy warfare, and never so happy as when 
they can tilt a gentleman logician out of his 
saddle. 

On subsequent inquiry my suspicions have 
been confirmed; I find the radical has but 
recently found his way into the village, where 
he threatens to commit fearful devastations 
with his doctrines. He has already made two 
or three complete converts, or new lights; 
has shaken the faith of several others; and 
has grievously puzzled the brains of many of 
the oldest villagers, who had never thought 
about politics, or scarce anything else, during 
their whole lives. 

He is lean and meagre from the constant 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 147 

restlessness of mind and body ; worrying about 
with newspapers and pamphlets in his pockets, 
which he is ready to pull out on all occasions. 
He has shocked several of the staunchest villa- 
gers by talking lightly of the squire and his 
family; and hinting that it would be better 
the park should be cut up into small farms 
and kitchen gardens, or feed good mutton 
instead of worthless deer. 

He is a great thorn in the side of the squire, 
who is sadly afraid that he will introduce pol- 
itics into the village, and turn it into an un- 
happy, thinking community. He is a still 
greater grievance to Master Simon, who has 
hitherto been able to sway the political opin- 
ions of the place, without much cost of learn- 
ing or logic ; but has been very much puzzled 
of late to weed out the doubts and heresies 
already sworn by this champion of reform. 
Indeed, the latter has taken complete com- 
mand at the tap-room of the tavern, not so 
much because he has convinced, as because 
he has out-talked all the established ora- 
cles. The apothecary, with all his philos- 
ophy, was as naught before him. He has 
convinced and converted the landlord at 
least a dozen times; who, however, is liable 
to be convinced and converted the other way 
by the next person with whom he talks. It is 
true the radical has a violent antagonist in 
the landlady, who is vehemently loyal, and 
thoroughly devoted to the king, Master Simon, 
and the squire. She now and then comes out 
upon the reformer with all the fierceness of a 



148 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

cat-o'-mountain, and does not spare her own 
soft-headed husband, for listening to what she 
terms such *' low-lived politics." What makes 
the good woman the more violent, is the per- 
fect coolness with which the radical listens to 
her attacks, drawing his face up into a provok- 
ing supercilious smile ; and when she has talked 
herself out of breath, quietly asking her for 
a taste of her home-brewed. 

The only person who is in any way a match 
for this redoubtable politician is Ready- Money 
Jack Tibbets, who maintains his stand in the 
tap-room, in defiance of the radical and all his 
works. Jack is one of the most loyal men in 
the country, without being able to reason 
about the matter. He has that admirable 
quality for a tough arguer, also, that he never 
knows when he is beat. He has half-a-dozen 
old maxims, which he advances on all occa- 
sions, and though his antagonist may overturn 
them never so often, yet he always brings 
them anew into the field. He is like the rob- 
ber in Ariosto, who, though his head might 
be cut off half a hundred times, yet whipped 
it on his shoulders again in a twinkling, and 
returned as sound a man as ever to the charge. 

Whatever does not square with Jack's simple 
and obvious creed, he sets down for "French 
politics;" for, notwithstanding the peace, he 
cannot be persuaded that the French are not 
still laying plots to ruin the nation, and to get 
hold of the Bank of England. The radical 
attempted to overwhelm him one day by a long 
passage from a newspaper; but Jacks neither 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 149 

reads nor believes on newspapers. In reply- 
he gave him on of the stanzas which he has 
by heart from his favorite and indeed only 
author, old Tusser, and which he calls his 
Golden Rules: 

Leave Princes' affairs undescanted on. 
And tend to such doings as stand thee upon ; 
Fear God, and offend not the King nor his laws, 
And keep thyself out of the magistrate's claws. 

When Tibbets had pronounced this with 
great emphasis, he pulled out a well-filled 
leathern purse, took out a handful of gold and 
silver, paid his score at the bar with great 
punctuality, returned his money, piece by 
piece, into his purse, his purse into his pocket, 
which he buttoned up, and then giving his 
cudgel a stout thump upon the floor, and bid- 
ding the radical "Good-morning, sir!" with 
the tone of a man who conceives he has com- 
pletely done for his antagonist, he walked with 
lion-like gravity out of the house. Two or 
three of Jack's admirers who were present, and 
had been afraid to take the field themselves, 
looked upon this as a perfect triumph, and 
winked at each other when the radical's back 
was turned. "Ay, ay!" said mine host, as 
soon as the radical was out of hearing, "let old 
Jack alone; I'll warrant he'll give him his 
own!" 



150 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



THE ROOKERY. 

But cawing rooks, and kites that swim sublime 
I In still repeated circles, screaming loud, 
The jay, the pie, and e'en the boding owl, 
That hails the rising moon, have charms for me. 

Cowper. 

In a grove of tall oaks and beeches, that 
crowns a terrace walk, just on the skirts of 
the garden^ is an ancient rookery, which is one 
of the most important provinces in the squire's 
rural domains. The old gentleman sets great 
store by his rooks, and will not suffer one of 
them to be killed, in consequence of which they 
have increased amazingly; the tree tops are 
loaded with their nests ; they have encroached 
upon the great avenue, and have even estab- 
lished, in times long past, a colony among the 
elms and pines of the churchyard, which, like 
other distant colonies, has already thrown off 
allegiance to the mother-country. 

The rooks are looked upon by the squire as 
a very ancient and honorable line of gentry, 
highly aristocratical in their notions, fond of 
place, and attached to church and state; as 
their building so loftily, keeping about 
churches and cathedrals, and in the venerable 
groves of old castles and manor-houses, suffi- 
ciently manifests. The good opinion thus 
expressed by the squire put me upon observing 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 151 

more narrowly these very respectable birds; 
for I confess, to my shame, I had been apt to 
confound them with their cousins-german the 
crows, to whom, at the first glance, they bear 
so great a family resemblance. Nothing, it 
seems, could be more unjust or injurious than 
such a mistake. The rooks and crows are, 
among the feathered tribes, what the Span- 
iards and Portuguese are among nations, the 
least loving, in consequence of their neighbor- 
hood and similarity. The rooks are old-estab- 
lished housekeepers, high-minded gentlefolk 
that have had their hereditary abodes time out 
of mind; but as to the poor crows, they are a 
kind of vagabond, predatory, gyps}^ race, rov- 
ing about the country, without any settled 
home; "their hands are against everybody, 
and everybody's against them," and they are 
gibbeted in every cornfield. Master Simon 
assures me that a female rook that should so 
far forget herself as to consort with a crow, 
would inevitably be disinherited, and indeed 
would be totally discarded by all her genteel 
acquaintance. 

The squire is very watchful over the inter- 
ests and concerns of his sable neighbors. As 
to Master Simon, he even pretends to know 
many of them by sight, and to have given 
names to them ; he points out several which he 
says are old heads of families, and compares 
them to worthy old citizens, beforehand in the 
world, that wear cocked hats and silver buckles 
in their shoes. Notwithstanding the protect- 
ing benevolence of the squire, and their being 



162 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

residents in his empire, they seem to acknowl- 
edge no allegiance, and to hold no intercourse 
or intimacy. Their airy tenements are built 
almost out of the reach of gunshot ; and, not- 
withstanding their vicinity to the Hall, they 
maintain a most reserved and distrustful shy- 
ness of mankind. 

There is one season of the year, however, 
which brings all birds in a manner to a level, 
and tames the pride of the loftiest highflyer; 
which is the season of building their nests. 
This takes place early in the spring, when the 
forest trees begin to show their buds ; the long 
withy ends of the branches turn green; when 
the wild strawberry, and other herbage of the 
sheltered woodlands, put forth their tender 
and tinted leaves, and the daisy and the prim- 
rose peep from under the hedges. At this 
time there is a general bustle among the feath- 
ered tribes ; an incessant fluttering about, and 
a cheerful chirping, indicative, like the germ- 
ination of the vegetable world, of the reviving 
life and fecundity of the year. 

It is then that the rooks forget their usual 
stateliness, and their shy and lofty habits. 
Instead of keeping up in the high regions of 
the air, swinging on the breezy tree-tops, and 
looking down with sovereign contempt upon 
the humble crawlers upon earth, they are fain 
to throw off for a time the dignity of a gentle- 
man, and to come down to the ground, and put 
on the painstaking and industrious character of 
a laborer. They now lose their natural shy- 
ness, become fearless and familiar, and 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 153 

may be seen flying about in all directions, 
with an air of great assiduity, in search of 
building materials. Every now and then your 
path will be crossed by one of these busy old 
gentlemen, worrying about with awkward gait, 
as if troubled with the gout or with corns on 
his toes, casting about many a prying look, 
turning down first one eye, then the other, in 
earnest consideration upon every straw he 
meets with, until espying some mighty twig, 
large enough to make a rafter for his air-castle, 
he will seize upon it with avidity, and hurry 
away with it to the tree-top; fearing, appar- 
ently, lest you should dispute with him the 
invaluable prize. 

Like other castle-builders, these airy archi- 
tects seem rather fanciful in the materials with 
which they build, and to like those most which 
come from a distance. Thus, though there 
are abundance of dry twigs on the surrounding 
trees, yet they never think of making use of 
them, but go foraging in distant lands, and 
come sailing home, one by one, from the ends 
of the earth, each bearing in his bill some 
precious piece of timber. 

Nor must I avoid mentioning what, I grieve 
to say, rather derogates from the grave and 
honorable character of these ancient gentle- 
folk, that, during the architectural season, 
they are subject to great dissentions among 
themselves; that they make no scruple to 
defraud and plunder each other; and that 
sometimes the rookery is a scene of hideous 
brawl and commotion, in consequence of some 



154 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

delinquency of the kind. One of the partners 
generally remains on the nest to guard it from 
depredation; and I have seen severe contests 
when some sly neighbor has endeavored to filch 
away a tempting rafter that has captivated his 
eye. As I am not willing to admit any sus- 
picion hastily that should throw a stigma on 
the general character of so worshipful a people, 
I am inclined to think that these larcenies are 
very much discountenanced by the higher 
classes, and even rigorously punished by those 
in authority; for I have now and then seen a 
whole gang of rooks fall upon the nest of some 
individual, pull it all to pieces, carry off the 
spoils, and even buffet the luckless proprietor. 
I have concluded this to be some signal pun- 
ishment inflicted upon him by the officers of 
the police, for some pilfering misdemeanor; 
or, perhaps, that it was a crew of bailiffs carry- 
ing an execution into his house. 

I have been amused with another of their 
movements during the building season. The 
steward has suffered a considerable number of 
sheep to graze on a lawn near the house, some- 
what to the annoyance of the squire, who thinks 
this an innovation on the dignity of a park, 
which ought to be devoted to deer only. Be 
this as it may, there is a green knoll, not far 
from the drawing-room window, where the 
ewes and lambs are accustomed to assemble 
towards evening for the benefit of the setting 
sun. No sooner were the}'' gathered here, at 
the time when these politic birds were build- 
ing, than a stately old rook, who. Master 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 155 

Simon assured me was the chief magistrate of 
this community, would settle down upon the 
head of one of the ewes, who, seeming con- 
scious of this condenscension, would desist from 
grazing, and stand fixed in motionless rever- 
ence of her august brethren ; the rest of the 
rookery would then come wheeling down, in 
imitation of their leader, until every ewe had 
two or three of them cawing, and fluttering, 
and battling upon her back. Whether they 
requited the submission of the sheep by levy- 
ing a contribution upon their fleece for the 
benefit of the rookery, I am not certain, though 
I presume they followed the usual custom of 
protecting powers. 

The latter part of May is a time of great 
tribulation among the rookeries, when the 
young are just able to leave the nests, and bal- 
ance themselves on the neighboring branches. 
Now comes on the season of "rook shooting:'* 
a terrible slaughter of the innocents. The 
squire, of course, prohibits all invasion of the 
kind on his territories; but I am told that a 
lamentable havoc takes place in the colony 
about the old church. Upon this devoted com- 
monwealth the village charges "with all its 
chivalry." Every idle wight that is lucky 
enough to possess an old gun or a blunderbuss, 
together with all the archery of Slingsby's 
school, take the field on the occasion. In vain 
does the little parson interfere, or remonstrate 
in angry tones, from his study window that 
looks into the churchyard; there is a continual 
popping from morning to night. Being no 



156 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

great marksmen, their shots are not often 
effective ; but every now and then a great shout 
from the besieging army of bumpkins makes 
known the downfall of some unlucky squab 
rook, which comes to the ground with the 
emphasis of a squashed apple-dumpling. 

Nor is the rookery entirely free from othet 
troubles and disasters. In so aristocratical 
and lofty-minded a community, which boasts 
so much ancient blood and hereditary pride, it 
is natural to suppose that questions of etiquette 
will sometimes arise, and affairs of honor 
ensue. In fact, this is very often the case : 
bitter quarrels break out between individuals, 
which produce sad scuffiings on the tree tops, 
and I have more than once seen a regular duel 
take place between two doughty heroes of the 
rookery. Their field of battle is generally the 
air; and their contest is managed in the most 
scientific and elegant manner ; wheeling round 
and round each other, and towering higher and 
higher to get the vantage ground, until they 
sometimes disappear in the clouds before the 
combat is determined. 

They have also fierce combats now and then 
with an invading hawk, and will drive him off 
from their territories by 2^ posse comitatus. They 
are also extremely tenacious of their domains, 
and will suffer no other bird to inhabit the 
grove or its vicinity. There was a very ancient 
and respectable old bachelor owl that had long 
had his lodgings in a corner of the grove, but 
has been fairly ejected by the rooks, and has 
retired, disgusted with the world, to a neigh- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 157 

boring wood, where he leads the life of a her- 
mit, and makes nightly complaints of his ill- 
treatment. 

The hootings of this unhappy gentleman may 
generally be heard in the still evenings, when 
the rooks are all at rest ; and I have often lis- 
tened to them of a moonlight night, with a 
kind of mysterious gratification. This gray- 
bearded misanthrope of course is highly 
respected by the squire, but the servants have 
superstitious notions about him ; and it would 
be difficult to get the dariymaid to venture 
after dark near to the wood which he inhabits. 

Besides the private quarrels of the rooks, 
there are other misfortunes to which they are 
liable, and which often bring distress into the 
most respectable families of the rookery. 
Having the true baronial spirit of the good old 
feudal times, they are apt now and then to 
issue forth from their castles on a foray, and 
to lay the plebeian fields of the neighboring 
country under contribution ; in the course of 
which chivalrous expeditions they now and then 
get a shot from the rusty artillery of some 
refractory farmer. Occasionally, too, while 
they are quietly taking the air beyond the park 
boundaries, they have the incaution to come 
within the reach of the truant bowmen of 
Slingsby's school, and receive a flight shot from 
some unlucky urchin's arrow. In such case 
the wounded adventurer will sometimes have 
just strength enough to bring himself home, 
and giving up the ghost at the rookery, will 
hang dangling "all abroad" on a bough like a 



158 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

thief on a gibbet ; an awful warning to hk 
friends, and an object of great commiseration 
to the squire. But, maugre all these untoward 
incidents, the rooks have, upon the whole 
a happy holiday life of it. When their young 
are reared, and fairly launched upon theii 
native element, the air, the cares of the old 
folks seem over, and they resume all their aris- 
tocratical dignity and idleness. I have envied 
them the enjoyment which they appear to have 
in their ethereal heights, sporting with clamor- 
ous exultation about their lofty bowers ; some- 
times hovering over them, sometimes partially 
alighting upon the topmost branches, and there 
balancing with outstretched wings, and swing- 
ing in the breeze. Sometimes they seem to 
take a fashionable drive to the church, and 
amuse themselves by circling in airy rings 
about its spire : at other times a mere gar- 
rison is left at home to mount guard in their 
stronghold at the grove, while the rest roam 
abroad to enjoy the fine weather. About sun- 
set the garrison gives notice of their return ; 
their faint cawing will be heard from a great 
distance, and they will be seen far off like 
a sable cloud, then nearer and nearer, 
until they all come soaring home. Then 
they perform several grand circuits in 
the jair, over the Hall and garden, wheel- 
ing closer, and closer, until they gradually 
settle down upon the grove, when a 
prodigious cawing takes place, as though they 
were relating their day's adventures. 

1 like at such times to walk about these 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 159 

dusky groves, and hear the various sounds of 
these airy people roosted so high above me. 
As the gloom increases, their conversation 
subsides, and they seem to be gradually drop- 
ping asleep ; but every now and then there is a 
querulous note, as if some one was quarreling 
for a pillow, or a little more of the blanket. 
It is late in the evening before they completely 
sink to repose, and then their old anchorite 
neighbor, the owl, begins his lonely hootings 
from his bachelor's hall in the wood. 



160 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



MAY-DAY. 

It is the choice time of the year, 
For the violets now appear ; 
Now the rose receives its birth, 
And pretty primrose decks the earth. 

Then to the May-pole come away, 

For it is now a holiday. 

Actseon and Diana. 

As I was lying in bed this morning, enjoying 
one of those half-dreams, half-reveries, which 
are so pleasant in the country, when the birds 
are singing about the window, and the sun- 
beams peeping through the curtains, I was 
roused by the sound of music. On going 
downstairs, I found a number of villagers 
dressed in their holiday clothes, bearing a pole 
ornamented with garlands and ribbons, and 
accompanied by the village band of music, un- 
der the direction of the tailor, the pale fellow 
who plays on the clarionet. They had all 
sprigs of hawthorn, or, as it is called, "the 
May," in their hats, and had brought green 
branches and flowers to decorate the Hall door 
and windows. They have come to give notice 
that the May-pole was reared on the green, 
and to invite the household to witness the 
sports. The Hall, according to custom, became 
a scene of hurry and delightful confusion. The 
servants were all agog with May and music ; 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 161 

and there was no keeping either the tongues 
or the feet of the maids quiet, who were an- 
ticipati'ng the sports of the green, •and the 
evening dance. 

I repaired to the village .at an early hour to 
enjoy the merry-making. The morning was 
pure and sunny, such as a May morning is al- 
ways described. The fields were white with 
daisies, the hawthorn was covered with its fra- 
grant blossoms, the bee hummed about every 
bank, and the swallow played high in the air 
about the village steeple. It was one of those 
genial days when we seem to draw in pleasure 
with the very air we breathe, and to feel happy 
we know not why. Whoever has felt the 
worth of worthy man, or has doted on lovely 
woman, will, on such a day, call them tenderly 
to mind, and. feel his heart all alive with long- 
buried recollections. "For thenne," says the 
excellent romance of King Arthur, '*lovers call 
ageyne to their mynde old gentilnes and old 
servyse, and many kind dedes that were for- 
gotten by neglygence. ' ^ 

Before reaching the village, I saw the May- 
pole towering above the cottages, with its gay 
garlands and streamers, and heard the sound 
of music. I found that there had been booths 
set up near it, for the reception of company; 
and a bower of green branches and flowers for 
the Queen of May, a fresh, rosy-cheeked girl 
of the village, 

A band of morris-dancers were capering on 
the green in their fantastic dresses, jingling 
with hawks' bells, with a boy dressed up as 

II Bracebridge 



162 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

Maid Marian, and the attendant fool rattling 
his box to collect contributions from the by- 
standers. The gypsy women, too, were already 
plying their mystery in by-corners of the vil- 
lage, reading the hands of the simple country 
girls, and no doubt promising them all good 
husbands and tribes of children. 

The squire made his appearance in the course 
of the morning, attended by the parson, and 
was received with loud acclamations. He min- 
gled among the country people throughout the 
day, giving and receiving pleasure wherever 
he went. The amusements of the day were 
under the management of Slingsby, the school- 
master, who is not merely lord of misrule in 
his school, but master of the revels to the vil- 
lage. He was bustling about with the per- 
plexed and anxious air of a man who has the 
oppressive burthen of promoting other peo- 
ple's merriment upon his mind. He had in- 
volved himself in a dozen scrapes in conse- 
quence of a politic intrigue, which, by the by, 
Master Simon and the Oxonian were at the 
bottom of, which had for object the election of 
the Queen of May. He had met with violent 
opposition from a faction of ale-drinkers, who 
were in favor of a bouncing barmaid, the 
daughter of the innkeeper; but he had been 
too strongly backed not to carry his point, 
though it shows that these rural crowns, like 
all others, are objects of great ambition and 
heart-burning. I am told that Master Simon 
takes great interest, though in an underhand 
way, in the election of these May-Day Queens, 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 163 

and that the chaplet is generally secured for 
some rustic beauty that has found favor in his 
eyes. In the course of the day there were 
various games of strength and agility on the 
green, at which a knot of village veterans pre- 
sided, as judges of the lists. Among those I 
perceived that Ready- Money Jack took the 
lead, looking with a learned and critical eye 
on the merits of the different candidates; and 
though he was very laconic, and sometimes 
merely expressed himself by a nod, yet it was 
evident that his opinions far outweighed those 
of the most loquacious. 

Young Jack Tibbets was the hero of the day, 
and carried off most of the prizes, though in 
some of the feats of agility he was rivaled by 
the "prodigal son," who appeared much in his 
element on this occasion ; but his most formid- 
able competitor was the notorious gypsy, the 
redoubtable *' Starlight Tom." 1 was rejoiced 
at having an opportunity of seeing this * 'minion 
of the moon" in broad daylight. I found him 
a tall, swarthy, good-looking fellow, with a 
lofty air, something like what I have seen in 
an Indian chieftain ; and with a certain loung- 
ing, easy, and almost graceful carriage, which 
I have often remarked in beings of the lazzar- 
oni order, that lead an idle, loitering life, and 
have a gentleman-like contempt of labor. 

Master Simon and the old general reconnoi- 
tred the ground together, and indulged a vast 
deal of harmless raking among the buxom 
country girls. Master Simon would give some 
of them a kiss on meeting with them, and 



164 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

would ask after their sisters, for he is ac- 
quainted with most of the farmers' families. 
Sometimes he would whisper, and affect to talk 
mischievously with them, and, if bantered on 
the subject, would turn it off with a laugh, 
though it was evident he liked to be suspected 
of being a gay Lothario amongst them. 

He had much to say to the farmers about 
their farms, and seemed to know all their 
horses by name. There was an old fellow, 
with a round, ruddy face, and a night-cap un- 
der his hat, the village wit, who took severaj 
occasions to crack a joke with him in the hear- 
ing of his companions, to whom he would turn 
and wink hard when Master Simon had passed. 

The harmony of the day, however, had 
nearly at one time been interrupted by the 
appearance of the radical on the ground, with 
two or three of his disciples. He soon got en- 
gaged in argument in the very thick of the 
throng, above which I could hear his voice, 
and now and then see his meagre hand, half a 
mile out of the sleeve, elevated in the air in 
violent gesticulation, and flourishing a pamph- 
let by way of truncheon. He was decrying 
these idle nonsensical amusements in times of 
public distress, when it was every one's busi- 
ness to think of other matters, and to be mis- 
erable. The honest village logicians could 
make no stand against him, especially as he 
was seconded by his proselytes ; when, to their 
great joy. Master Simon and the general came 
drifting down into the field of action. I saw 
that Master Simon was for making off, as soon 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 165 

as he found himself in the neighborhood of this 
fireship ; but the general was too loyal to suffer 
such talk in his hearing, and thought, no 
doubt, that a look and a word from a gentle- 
man would be sufficient to shut up so shabby 
an orator. The latter, however, was no re- 
specter of persons, but rather seemed to exult 
in having such important antagonists. He 
talked with greater volubility than ever, and 
soon drowned them with declamation on the 
subject of taxes, poor's rates, and the national 
debt. Master Simon endeavored to brush 
along in his usual excursive manner, which had 
always answered amazingly well with the vil- 
lagers ; but the radical was one of those pesti- 
lent fellows that pin a man down to facts, and, 
indeed, he had two or three pamphlets, in his 
pocket, to support everything he advanced by 
printed documents. The general, too, found 
himself betrayed into a more serious action 
than his dignity could brook, and looked like a 
mighty Dutch Indiaman grievously peppered 
by a petty privateer. It was in vain that he 
swelled and looked big, and talked large, and 
endeavored to make up by pomp of manner 
for poverty of matter ; every home-thrust of 
the radical made him wheeze like a bellows, 
and seemed to let a volume of wind out of him. 
In a word, the two worthies from the Hall were 
completely dumfounded, and this, too, in the 
presence of several of Master Simon's staunch 
admirers, who had always looked up to him as 
infallible. I do not know how he and the gen- 
eral would have managed to draw their forces 



166 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

decently from the field, had there not been a 
match at grinning through a horse-collar an- 
nounced, whereupon the radical retired with 
great expression of contempt, and as soon as 
his back was turned, the argument was carried 
against him all hollow. 

'*Did you ever hear such a pack of stuff, 
general?" said Master Simon ; "there's no talk- 
ing with one of these chaps when he once gets 
that confounded Cobbett in his head." 

"S 'blood, sir!" said the general, wiping his 
forehead, "such fellows ought all to be trans- 
ported ! ' ' 

In the latter part of the day the ladies from 
the Hall paid a visit to the green. The fair 
Julia made her appearance, leaning on her 
lover's arm, and looking extremely pale and 
interesting. As she is a great favorite in the 
village, where she had been known from child- 
hood, and as her late accident had been much 
talked about, the sight of her caused very 
manifest delight, and some of the old women 
of the village blessed her sweet face as she 
passed. 

While they were walking about, I noticed 
the schoolmaster in earnest conversation with 
the young girl that represented the Queen of 
May, evidently endeavoring to spirit her up to 
some formidable undertaking. At length, as 
the party from the Hall approached her bower, 
she came forth, faltering at every step, until 
she reached the spot where the fair Julia stood 
between her lover and Lady Lillycraft. The 
little Queen then took the chaplet of flowers 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 167 

from her head, and attempted to put it on that 
of the bride-elect; but the confusion of both 
was so great, that the wreath would have 
fallen to the ground, had not the officer caught 
it, and, laughing, placed it upon the blushing 
brow of his mistress. There was something 
charming in the very embarrassment of these 
two young creatures, both so beautiful, yet so 
different in their kinds of beauty. Master 
Simon told me, afterwards, that the Queen of 
May was to have spoken a few verses which 
the schoolmaster had written for her; but that 
she had neither wit to understand nor memory 
to recollect them. "Besides," added he, "be- 
tween you and I, she murders the king's Eng- 
lish abominably ; so she has acted the part of a 
wise woman in holding her tongue, and trust- 
ing to her pretty face." 

Among the other characters from the Hall 
was Mrs. Hannah, my Lady Lillycraft's gen- 
tlewoman : to my surprise he was escorted by 
old Christy the huntsman, and followed by his 
ghost of a greyhound ; but I find they are very 
old acquaintances, being drawn together from 
some sympathy of disposition Mrs. Hannah 
moved about with starched dignity among the 
rustics, who drew back from her with more 
awe than they did from her mistress. Her 
mouth seemed shut as with a clasp, excepting 
that I now and then heard the word "fellows!" 
escape from between her lips, as she got acci- 
dentally jostled in the crowd. 

But there was one other heart present that 
did not enter into the merriment of the scene, 



\eS BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

which was that of the simple Phoebe Wilkins, 
the housekeeper's niece. The poor girl has 
continued to pine and whine for some time 
past, in consequence of the obstinate coldness 
of her lover; never was a little flirtation more 
severely punished. She appeared this day on 
the green, gallanted by a smart servant out of 
livery, and had evidently resolved to try the 
hazardous experiment of awakening the jeal- 
ousy of her lover. She was dressed in her very 
best; affected an air of great gayety; talked 
loud and girlishly, and laughed when there was 
nothing to laugh at. There was, however, an 
aching, heavy heart, in the poor baggage's 
bosom, in spite of all her levity. Her eye 
turned every nbw and then in quest of her 
reckless lover, and her cheek grew pale, and her 
fictitious ga3^ety vanished, on seeing him pay- 
ing his rustic homage to the little May-day 
Queen. 

My attention was now diverted by a fresh 
stir and bustle. Music was heard from a dis- 
tance; a banner was seen advancing up the 
road, preceded by a rustic band playing some- 
thing like a march, and followed by a sturdy 
throng of country lads, the chivalry of a neigh- 
boring and rival village. 

No sooner had they reached the green than 
they challenged the heroes of the day to new 
trials of strength and activity. Several gym- 
nastic contests ensued for the honor of the re- 
spective villages. In the course of these exer- 
cises, young Tibbets and the champion of the 
adverse party had an obstinate match at wi*es- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 169 

tling. They tugged, and strained, and 
panted, without either getting the mastery, 
until both came to the ground, and rolled upon 
the green. Just then the disconsolate Phoebe 
came by. She saw her recreant lover in fierce 
contest, as she thought, and in danger. In a 
moment pride, pique, and coquetry were for- 
gotten ; she rushed into the ring, seized upon 
the rival champion by the hair, and was on 
the point of wreaking on him her puny ven- 
geance, when a buxom, strapping, country lass, 
the sweetheart of the prostrate swain, pounced 
upon her like a hawk, and would have stripped 
her of her fine plummage in a twinkling, had 
she also not been seized in her turn. 

A complete tumult ensued. The chivalry of 
the two villages became embroiled. Blows 
began to be dealt, and sticks to be flourished. 
Phoebe was carried off from the field in hys- 
terics. In vain did the sages of the village in- 
terfere. The sententious apothecary endeav- 
ored to pour the soothing oil of his philosophy 
upon this tempestuous sea of passion, but was 
tumbled into the dust. Slingsby, the peda- 
gogue, who is a great lover of peace, went into 
the middle of the throng, as marshal of the 
day, to put an end to the commotion, but was 
rent in twain, and came out with his garment 
hanging in two strips from his shoulders ; upon 
which the prodigal son dashed in with fury to 
revenge the insult which his patron had sus- 
tained. The tumult thickened; I caught 
glimpses of the jockey-cap of old Christy, like 
the helmet of a chieftain, bobbing about in the 



170 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

midst of the scuffle ; while Mrs. Hannah, sep- 
arated from her doughty protector, was squal- 
ling and striking at right and left with a faded 
parasol ; being tossed and tousled about by the 
crowd in such wise as never happened to 
maiden gentlewoman before. 

At length I beheld old Ready-Money Jack 
making his way into the very thickest of the 
throng ; tearing it, as it were, apart, and en- 
forcing peace vi et armis. It was surprising to 
see the sudden quiet that ensued. The storm 
settled down at once into tranquillity. The 
parties, having no real grounds of hostility, 
were readily pacified, and, in fact, were a little 
at a loss to know why and how they had got by 
the ears. Slingsby was speedily stitched to- 
gether again by his friend the tailor, and re- 
sumed his usual good humor. Mrs. Hannah 
drew on one side to plume her rumpled feathers; 
and old Christy, having repaired his damages, 
took her under his arm and they swept back 
again to the Hall, ten times more bitter 
against mankind than ever. 

The Tibbets family alone seemed slow in 
recovering from the agitation of the scene. 
Young Jack was evidently very much moved 
by the heroism of the unlucky Phoebe. His 
mother, who had been summoned to the field 
of action by news of the affray, was in a sad 
panic, and had need of all her management to 
keep him from following his mistress, and 
coming to a perfect reconciliation. 

What heightened the alarm and perplexity 
of the good managing dame was, that the mat- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 371 

ter had roused the slow apprehension of old 
Ready-Money himself; who was very much 
struck by the intrepid interference of so pretty 
and delicate a girl, and was sadly puzzled to 
understand the meaning of the violent agita- 
tion in his family. 

When all this came to the ears of the squire, 
he was grievously scandalized that his May- 
day fete should have been disgraced by such a 
brawl. He ordered Phoebe to appear before 
him ; but the girl was so frightened and dis- 
tressed, that she came sobbing and trembling, 
and, at the first question he asked, fell again 
into hysterics. Lady Lillycraft, who had un- 
derstood that there was an affair of the heart 
at the bottom of this distress, immediately 
took the girl into great favor and protection, 
and made her peace with the squire. This 
was the only thing that disturbed the harmony 
of the day, if we except the discomfiture of 
Master Simon and the general by the radical. 
Upon the whole, therefore, the squire had very 
fair reason to be satisfied that he had rode his 
hobby throughout the day without any other 
molestation. 

The reader, learned in these matters, will 
perceive that all this was but a faint shadow 
of the once gay and fanciful rites of May. 
The peasantry have lost the proper feeling for 
these rites, and have grown almost as strange 
to them as the boors of La Mancha were to the 
customs of chivalry in the days of the valorous 
Don Quixote. Indeed, I considered it a proof 
of the discretion with which the squire rides 



172 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

his hobby, that he had not pushed the thing 
any farther, nor attempted to revive many ob- 
solete usages of the day, which, in the present 
matter-of-fact times, would appear affected 
and absurd. I must say, though I do it under 
the rose, the general brawl in which this festi- 
val had nearly terminated, has made me doubt 
whether these rural customs of the good old 
times were always so very loving and innocent 
as we ar© apt to fancy them ; and whether the 
peasantry in those times were really so Arca- 
dian as they have been fondly represented. I 
begin to fear 

"Those days were never; airy dreams 

Sat for the picture, and the poet's hand, 
Imparting substance to an empty shade, 
Imposed a gay delirium for a truth. 
Grant it ; I still must envy them an age 
That favored such a dream." 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 173 



THE CULPRIT. 

From fire, from water, from all things amiss, 
Deliver the house of an honest justice. 

The Widow. 

The serenity of the Hall has been suddenly 
interrupted by a very important occurrence. 
In the course of this morning a posse of vil- 
lagers was seen trooping up the avenue, with 
boys shouting in advance. As it drew near, 
we perceived Ready-Money Jack Tibbets 
striding along, wielding his cudgel in one 
hand, and with the other grasping the collar 
of a tall fellow, whom, on still nearer ap- 
proach, we recognized for the redoubtable 
gypsy hero, Starlight Tom. He was now, 
however, completely cowed and crest-fallen, 
and his courage seemed to have quailed in the 
iron gripe of the lion-hearted Jack. 

The whole gang of gypsy women and chil- 
dren came draggling in the rear; some in 
tears, others making a violent clamor about 
the ears of old Ready- Money, who, however, 
trudged on in silence with his prey, heeding 
their abuse as little as a hawk that has 
pounced upon a barn-door hero regards the 
outcries and cacklings of his whole feathered 
seraglio. 

He had passed through the village on his 



174 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

way to the Hall, and of course had made a 
great sensation in that most excitable place, 
where every event is a matter of gaze and gos- 
sip. The report flew like wildfire that Star- 
light Tom was in custody. The ale-drinkers 
forthwith abandoned the tap-room; Slingby's 
school broke loose, and master and boys 
swelled the tide that cam.e rolling at the heels 
of old Ready-Money and his captive. 

The uproar increased as they approached the 
Hall; it aroused the whole garrison of dogs, 
and the crews of hangers-on. The great mas- 
tiff barked from the dog-house; the stag- 
hound, and the greyhound, and the spaniel, 
issued barking from the Hall door, and my 
Lady Lilly craft's little dogs ramped and 
barked from the parlor window. I remarked, 
however, that the gypsy dogs miade no reply 
to all these menaces and insults, but crept 
close to the gang, looking round with a guilty, 
poaching air, and now and then glancing up a 
dubious eye to their owners; which shows that 
the moral dignity, even of dogs, may be 
ruined by bad company! 

When the throng reached the front of the 
house, they were brought to a halt by a kind 
of advanced guard, composed of old Christy, 
the gamekeeper, and two or three servants of 
the house, who had been brought out by the 
noise. The common herd of the village fell 
back with respect; the boys were driven back 
by Christy and his compeers; while Ready- 
Money Jack maintained his ground and his 
hold of the prisoner, and was surrounded by 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 175 

the tailor, the schoolmaster, and several 
other dignitaries of the village, and by the 
clamorous brood of gypsies, who were neither 
to be silenced nor intimidated. 

By this time the whole household were 
brought to the doors and windows, and the 
squire to the portal. An audience was de- 
manded by Ready-Money Jack, who had de- 
tected the prisoner in the very act of sheep- 
stealing on his domains, and had borne him off 
to be examined before the squire, who is in the 
commission of the peace. 

A kind of tribunal was immediatley held in 
the servants' hall, a large chamber with a stone 
floor and a long table in the center, at one end 
of which, just under an enormous clock, was 
placed the squire's chair of justice, while Mas- 
ter Simon took his place at the table as clerk 
of the court. An attempt had been made by 
old Christy to keep out the gypsy gang, but in 
vain ; and they, with the village worthies, and 
the household, half filled the hall. The old 
housekeeper and the butler were in a panic at 
this dangerous irruption. They hurried away 
all the valuable things and portable articles that 
were at hand, and even kept a dragon watch 
on the gypsies, lest they should carry off the 
house clock or the deal table. 

Old Christy, and his faithful coadjutor, the 
gamekeeper, acted as constables to guard the 
prisoner, triumphing in having at last got this 
terrible offender in their clutches. Indeed I 
am inclined to think the old man bore some 
peevish recollection of having been handled 



176 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

rather roughly by the gypsy in the chance- 
medley affair of May-day. 

Silence was now commanded by Master 
Simon ; but it was difficult to be enforced in 
such a motley assemblage. There was a con- 
tinued snarling and yelping of dogs, and, as 
fast as it was quelled in one corner, it broke 
out in another. The poor gypsy curs, who, 
like errant thieves, could not hold up their 
heads in an honest house, were worried and 
insulted by the gentlemen dogs of the estab- 
lishment, without offering to make resistance ; 
the very curs of my Lady Lillycraft bullied 
them with impunity. 

The examination was conducted with great 
mildness and indulgence by the squire, partly 
from the kindness of his nature, and partly, I 
suspect, because his heart yearned towards the 
culprit, who had found great favor in his eyes, 
as I have already observed, from the skill he 
had at various times displayed in archery, 
morris-dancing, and other obsolete accom- 
plishments. Proofs, however, were too strong. 
Ready-Money Jack told his story in a straight- 
forward independent way, nothing daunted by 
the presence in which he found himself. He 
had suffered from various depradations on his 
sheep-fold and poultry-yard, and had at length 
kept watch, and caught the delinquent in the 
very act of making off with a sheep on his 
shoulders. 

Tibbets was repeatedly interrupted, in the 
course of his testimony, by the culprit's 
mother, a furious old beldame, with an un- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 177 

sufferable tongue, and who, in fact, was sev- 
eral times kept, with some difficulty, from fly- 
ing at him tooth and nail. The wife, too, of 
the prisoner, whom I am told he does not beat 
above half a dozen times a week, completely 
interested Lady Lillycraft in her husband's 
behalf, by her tears and supplications ; and 
several other of the gypsy women were 
awakening strong sympathy among the young 
girls and maid-servants in the background. 
The pretty black-eyed gypsy girl, whom I have 
mentioned on a former occasion as the sibyl 
that read the fortunes of the general, endeav- 
ored to wheedle that doughty warrior into their 
interests, and even made some approaches to 
her old acquaintance, Master Simon ; but was 
repelled by the latter, with all the dignity of 
office, having assumed a look of gravity and 
importance suitable to the occasion. 

I was a little surprised, at first, to find hon- 
est Slingsby, the schoolmaster, rather opposed 
to his old crony Tibbets, and coming forward 
as a kind of advocate for the accused. It 
seems that he had taken compassion on the 
forlorn fortunes of Starlight Tom, and had 
been trying his eloquence in his favor the 
whole way from the village, but without 
effect. During the examination of Ready- 
Money Jack, Slingsby had stood like "dejected 
Pity at his side," seeking every now and then, 
by a soft word, to soothe any exacerbation of 
his ire, or to qualify any harsh expression. 
He now ventured to make a few observations 
to the squire in palliation of the delinquent's 

12 Bracebridge 



178 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

offence ; but poor Slingsby spoke more from 
the heart than the head, and was evidently 
actuated merely by a general sympathy for 
every poor devil in trouble, and a liberal tolera- 
tion for all kinds of vagabond existence. 

The ladies, too, large and small, with the 
kind-heartedness of their sex, were zealous on 
the side of mercy, and interceded strenuously 
with the squire: insomuch that the prisoner, 
finding himself unexpectedly surrounded by 
active friends, once more reared his crest, and 
seemed disposed for a time to put on the air of 
injured innocence. The squire, however, 
with all his benevolence of heart, and his lurk- 
ing weakness towards the prisoner, was too 
conscientious to swerve from the strict path of 
justice. There was abundant concurrent tes- 
timony that made the proof of guilt incontro- 
vertible, and Starlight Tom's mittimus was 
made out accordingly. 

The sympathy of the ladies was now greater 
than ever ; they even made some attempts to 
mollify the ire of Ready-Money Jack ; but that 
sturdy potentate had been too much incensed 
by the repeated incursions that had been made 
into his territories by the predatory band of 
Starlight Tom, and he was resolved, he said, to 
drive the "varmint reptiles" out of the neigh- 
borhood. To avoid all further importunities, 
as soon as the mittimus was made out, he 
girded up his loins, and strode back to his seat 
of empire, accompanied by his interceding 
friend, Slingsby, and followed by a detach- 
ment of the gypsy gang, who hung on his 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 179 

rear, assailing him with mingled prayers and 
execrations. 

The question now was, how to dispose of 
the prisoner; a matter of great moment in 
this peaceful establishment, where so formid- 
able a character as Starlight Tom was like a 
hawk entrapped in a dovecote. As the hubbub 
and examination had occupied a considerable 
time, it was too late in the day to send him to 
the county prison, and that of the village was 
sadly out of repair from long want of occupa- 
tion. Old Christy, who took great interest in 
the affair, proposed that the culprit should be 
committed for the night to an upper loft of a 
kind of tower in one of the out-houses, where 
he and the gamekeeper would mount guard. 
After much deliberation this measure was 
adopted ; the premises in question were exam- 
ined and made secure, and Christy and his 
trusty ally, the one armed with a fowling- 
piece, the other with an ancient blunderbuss, 
turned out as sentries to keep watch over this 
donjon-keep. 

Such is the momentous affair that has just 
taken place, and it is an event of too great mo- 
ment in this quiet little world, not to turn it 
completely topsy-turvy. Labor is at a stand. 
The house has been a scene of confusion the 
whole evening. It has been beleaguered by 
gypsy women, with their children on their 
backs, wailing and lamenting ; while the old 
virago of a mother has cruised up and down 
the lawn in front, shaking her head and mut- 
tering to herself, or now and then breaking 



180 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

out into a paroxysm of rage, brandishing her 
fist at the Hall, and denouncing ill-luck upon 
Ready-Money Jack, and even upon the squire 
himself. 

Lady Lillycraft has given repeated audiences 
to the culprit's weeping wife, at the Hall 
door; and the servant-maids have stolen out 
to confer with the gypsy women under the 
trees. As to the little ladies of the family, 
they are all outrageous at Ready-Money Jack, 
whom they look upon in the light of a tyran- 
nical giant of fairy tale. Phoebe Wilkins, 
contrary to her usual nature, is the only one 
that is pitiless in the affair. She thinks Mr. 
Tibbets quite in the right ; and thinks the 
gypsies deserve to be punished severely for 
meddling with the sheep of the Tibbetses. 

In the meantime the females of the family 
have evinced all the provident kindness of the 
sex, ever ready to soothe and succor the dis- 
tressed, right or wrong. Lady Lillycraft has 
had a mattress taken to the out-house, and 
comforts and delicacies of all kinds have been 
taken to the prisoner ; even the little girls 
have sent their cakes and sweetmeats ; so that, 
I'll warrant, the vagabond has never fared so 
well in his life before. Old Christy, it is true, 
looks upon everything with a wary eye ; struts 
about with his blunderbuss with the air of a 
veteran campaigner, and will hardly allow 
himself to be spoken to. The gypsy women 
dare not come within gunshot, and every tat- 
terdemallion of a boy has been frightened 
from the park. The old fellow is determined 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 181 

to lodge Starlight Tom in prison with his own 
hands; and hopes, he says, to see one of the 
poaching crew made an example of. 

I doubt, after all, whether the worthy squire 
is not the greatest sufferer in the whole affair. 
His honorable sense of duty obliges him to be 
rigid, but the overflowing kindness of his 
nature makes this a grievous trouble to him. 

He is not accustomed to have such demands 
upon his justice in his truly patriarchal do- 
main; and it wounds his benevolent spirit, 
that, while prosperity and happiness are flow- 
ing in thus bounteously upon him, he should 
have to inflict misery upon a fellow-being. 

He has been troubled and cast down the 
whole evening ; took leave of the family, on 
going to bed, with a sigh, instead of his usual 
hearty and affectionate tone, and will, in all 
probability, have a far more sleepless night 
than his prisoner. Indeed this unlucky affair 
has cast a damp upon the whole household, as 
there appears to be an universal opinion that 
the unlucky culprit will come to the gallows. 

Morning. — The clouds of last evening are all 
blown over. A load has been taken from the 
squire's heart, and every face is once more in 
smiles. The gamekeeper made his appearance 
at an early hour, completely shamefaced and 
crestfallen. Starlight Tom had made his es- 
cape in the night ; how he had got out of the 
loft no one could tell ; the devil, they think, 
must have assisted him. Old Christy was so 
mortified that he would not show his face, but 
had shut himself up in his stronghold at the 



182 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

dog-kennel, and would not be spoken with. 
What has particularly relieved the squire is, 
that there is very little likelihood of the cul- 
prit's being retaken, having gone off on one of 
the old gentleman's best hunters. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 183 



LOVERS' TROUBLES. 

The poor soul sat singing by a sycamore tree, 

Sing all a green willow ; 

Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee. 

Sing willow, willow, willow; 

Sing all a green willow must be my garland. 

Old Song. 

The fair Julia having nearly recovered from 
the effects of her hawking disaster, it begins 
to be thought high time to appoint a day for 
the wedding. As every domestic event in 
a venerable and aristocratic family connection 
like this is a matter of moment, the fixing 
upon this important day has, of course, given 
rise to much conference and debate. 

Some " slight difficulties and demurs have 
lately sprung up, originating in the peculiar 
humors that are prevalent at the Hall. Thus, 
1 have overheard a very solemn consultation be- 
tween Lady Lillycraft, the parson, and Master 
Simon, as to whether the marriage ought not 
to be postponed until the coming month. 

With all the charms of the flowery month of 
May, there is, , I find, an ancient prejudice 
against it as a marrying month. An old 
proverb says, "To wed in May, is to wed pov- 
erty. " Now, as Lady Lillycraft is very much 
given to believe in lucky and unlucky times 
and seasons, and indeed is very superstitious 



184 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

on all points relating to the tender passion, 
this old proverb seems to have taken great 
hold upon her mind. She recollects two or 
three instances in her own knowledge of 
matches that took place in this month, and 
proved very unfortunate. Indeed, an old 
cousin of hers, who married on a May-day, lost 
her husband by a fall from his horse, after 
they had lived happily together for twenty 
years. 

The parson appeared to give great weight to 
her ladyship's objections, and acknowledged 
the existence of a prejudice of the kind, not 
merely confined to modern times, but preva- 
lent likewise among the ancients. In confir- 
mation of this he quoted a passage from 
Ovid, which had a great effect on Lady Lilly- 
craft, being given in a language which she did 
not understand. Even Master Simon was 
staggered by it; for he listened with a puzzled 
air, and then, shaking his head, sagaciously 
observed that Ovid was certainly a very wise 
man. 

From this sage conference I likewise gath- 
ered several other important pieces of infor- 
mation relative to weddings; such as that if 
two were celebrated in the same church on the 
same day, the first would be happy, the second 
unfortunate. If, on going to church, the 
bridal party should meet the funeral of a fe- 
male, it was an omen that the bride would die 
first ; if of a male, the bridegroom. If the 
newly-married couple were to dance together 
on their wedding-day, the wife would thence- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 185 

forth rule the roast ; with many other curious 
and unquestionable facts of the same nature, 
all which made me ponder more than ever 
upon the perils which surround this happy 
state, and the thoug'htless ignorance of mortals 
as to the awful risks they run in entering 
upon it. I abstain, however, from enlarging 
upon this topic, having no inclination to pro- 
mote the increase of bachelors. 

Notwithstanding the due weight which the 
squire gives to traditional saws and ancient 
opinions, yet I am happy to find that he makes 
a firm stand for the credit of this loving 
month, and brings to his aid a whole legion of 
poetical authorities; all which, I presume, 
have been conclusive with the young people, 
as I understand they are perfectly willing to 
marry in May and abide the consequences. 
In a few days, therefore, the wedding is to 
take place and the Hall is in a buzz of antici- 
pation. The housekeeper is bustling about 
from morning till night with a look full of bus- 
iness and importance, having a thousand ar- 
rangements to make, the squire intending to 
keep open house on the occasion ; and as to the 
housemaids, you cannot look one of them in the 
face, but the rogue begins to color up and sim- 
per. 

While, however, this leading love affair is 
going on with a tranquillity quite inconsistent 
with the rules of romance, I cannot say that 
the underplots are equally propitious. The 
"opening bud of love" between the general 
and Lady Lillycraft seems to have experienced 



186 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

some blight in the course of this genial season. 
I do not think the general has ever been able 
to retrieve the ground he lost when he fell 
asleep during the captain's story. Indeed, 
Master Simon thinks his case is completely 
desperate, her ladyship having determined 
that he is quite destitute of sentiment. 

The season has been equally unpropitious to 
the love-lorn Phoebe Wilkins. I fear the rea- 
der will be impatient at having this humble 
amour so often alluded to ; but I confess I am 
apt to take a great interest in the love 
troubles of simple girls of this class. Few 
people have an idea of the world of care and 
perplexity that these poor damsels have in 
managing the affairs of the heart. 

We talk and write about the tender passions ; 
we give it all the colorings of sentiment and 
romance, and lay the scene of its influence in 
high life ; but, after all, I doubt whether its 
sway is not more absolute among females of a 
humbler sphere. How often, could we but 
look into the heart, should we find the senti- 
ment throbbing in all its violence in the bosom 
of the poor lady's maid, rather than in that of 
the brilliant beauty she is decking out for con- 
quest; whose brain is probably bewildered 
with beaux, ball-rooms, and wax-light chan- 
deliers. 

With these humble beings love is an honest, 
engrossing concern. They have no ideas of 
settlements, establishments, equipages, and 
pin-money. The heart — the heart — is all-in- 
all with them, poor things! There is seldom 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 187 

one of them but has her love cares, and love 
secrets ; her doubts, and hopes, and fears, equal 
to those of any heroine of romance, and ten 
times as sincere. And then, too, there is her 
secret hoard of love documents; — the broken 
sixpence, the gilded brooch, the lock of hair, 
the unintelligible love scrawl, are treasured up 
in her box of Sunday finery, for private con- 
templation. 

How many crosses and trials is she exposed to 
from some lynx-eyed dame, or staid old vestal 
of a mistress, who keeps a dragon watch over 
her virtue, and scouts the lover from the door ! 
But then how sweet are the little love scenes, 
snatched at distant intervals of holiday, fondly 
dwelt on through many a long day of house- 
hold labor and confinement! If in the country, 
it is the dance at the fair or wake, the inter- 
view in the churchyard after service, or the 
evening stroll in the green lane. If in town, 
it is perhaps merely a stolen moment of deli- 
cious talk between the bars of the area, fearful 
every instant of being seen ; and then, how 
lightly will the simple creature carol all day 
afterwards at her labor. 

Poor baggage ! after all her crosses and diffi- 
culties, when she marries, what is it but to 
exchange a life of comparative ease and com- 
fort for one of toil and uncertainty? Perhaps, 
too, the lover, for whom, in the fondness of 
her nature, she has committed herself to for- 
tune's freaks, turns out a worthless churl, the 
dissolute, hard-hearted husband of low life; 
who, taking to the alehouse, leaves her to a 



188 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

cheerless home, to labor, penury, and child- 
bearing. 

When I see poor Phoebe going about with 
drooping eyes, and her head hanging "all o* 
one side, ' ' I cannot help calling to mind the 
pathetic little picture drawn by Desdemona: — 

"My mother had a maid, called Barbara; 
She was in love ; and he she loved proved mad 
And did forsake her ; she had a song of willow. 
An old thing 'twas ; but it express'd her fortune, 
And she died singing it." 

I hope^ however, that a better lot is in 
reserve for Phoebe Wilkins, and that she may 
yet "rule the roast," in the ancient empire of 
the Tibbetses! She is not fit to battle with 
hard hearts or hard times. She was, I am told, 
the pet of her poor mother, who was proud of 
the beauty of her child, and brought her up 
more tenderly than a village girl ought to be ; 
and ever since she has been left an orphan the 
good ladies at the Hall have completed the 
softening and spoiling of her. 

I have recently observed her holding long 
conferences in the churchyard, and up and down 
one of the lanes near the village, with Slingsby 
the schoolmaster. I at first thought the peda- 
gogue might be touched with the tender 
malady so prevalent in these parts of late ; but 
I did him injustice. Honest Slingsby, it 
seems, was a friend and crony of her late 
father, the parish clerk; and is on intimate 
terms with the Tibbets family. Prompted, 
therefore, by his good- will towards all parties, 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 189 

and secretly instigated, perhaps, by the manag- 
ing dame Tibbets, he has undertaken to talk 
with Phoebe upon the subject. He gives her, 
however, but little encouragement. Slingsby 
has a formidable opinion of the aristocratical 
feeling of old Ready-Money, and thinks, if 
Phoebe were even to make the matter up with 
the son, she would find the father totally hos- 
tile to the match. The poor damsel, therefore, 
is reduced almost to despair; and Slingsby, 
who is too good-natured not to sympathize in 
her distress, has advised her to give up all 
thoughts of young Jack, and has promised as a 
substitute his learned coadjutor, the prodigal 
son. He has even, in the fulness of his heart, 
offered to give up the schoolhouse to them, 
though it would leave him once more adrift in 
the wide world. 



190 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 



THE WEDDING. 

No more, no more, much honor aye betide 
The lofty bridegroom, and the lovely bride ; 
That all of their succeeding days may say, 
Each day appears like to a wedding-day. 

— Braithwaite. 

Notwithstanding the doubts and demurs of 
Lady Lillycraft, and all the grave objections 
that were conjured up against the month of 
May, yet the Wedding has at length happily 
taken place. It was celebrated at the village 
church in presence of a numerous company of 
relatives and friends, and many of the tenantry. 
The squire must needs have something of the 
old ceremonies observed on the occasion ; so at 
the gate of the churchyard, several little girls 
of the village, dressed in white, were in readi- 
ness with baskets of flowers, which they strewed 
before the bride ; and the butler bore before 
her the bride-cup, a great silver embossed 
bowl, one of the family reliques from the days 
of the hard drinkers. This was filled with 
rich wine, and decorated with a branch of rose- 
mary, tied with gay ribbons, according to 
ancient custom. 

"Happy is the bride that the sun shines on," 
says the old proverb ; and it was as sunny and 
auspicious a morning as heart could wish. The 
bride looked uncommonly beautiful; but, in 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 191 

fact, what woman does not look interesting on 
her wedding-day? I know no sight more 
charming and touching than that of a young 
and timid bride, in her robes of virgin white, 
led up trembling to the altar. When I thus 
behold a lovely girl, in the tenderness of her 
years, forsaking the house of her fathers and 
the home of her childhood, and, with the im- 
plicit, confiding, and the sweet self-abandon- 
ment which belong to woman, giving up all the 
world for the man of her choice ; when I hear 
her, in the good old language of the ritual, 
yielding herself to him *'for better for worse, 
for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health ; 
to love, honor, and obey, till death us do part," 
it brings to my mind the beautiful and affect- 
ing self-devotion of Ruth: — "Whither thou 
goest I will go, and where thou lodgest I will 
lodge ; thy people shall be my people, and thy 
God my God." 

The fair Julia was supported on the trying 
occasion by Lady Lillycraft, whose heart was 
overflowing with its wonted sympathy in all 
matters of love and matrimony. As the bride 
approached the altar, her face would be one 
moment covered with blushes, and the next 
deadly pale ; and she seemed almost ready to 
shrink from sight among her female compan- 
ions. 

I do not know what it is that makes every 
one serious, and, as it were, awestruck at a 
marriage ceremony, which is generally consid- 
ered as an occasion of festivity and rejoicing. 
As the ceremony was performing, I observed 



192 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

many a rosy face among the country girls turn 
pale, and I did not see a smile throughout the 
church. The young ladies from the Hall were 
almost as much frightened as if it had been 
their own case, and stole many a look of sym- 
pathy at their trembling companion. A tear 
stood in the eye of the sensitive Lady Lilly- 
craft; and as to Phoebe Wilkins, who was 
present, she absolutely wept and sobbed aloud ; 
but it is hard to tell half the time what these 
fond, foolish creatures are crying about. 

The captain, too, though naturally gay and 
unconcerned, was much agitated on the occa- 
sion, and, in attempting to put the ring upon 
the bride's finger, dropped it on the floor; 
which Lady Lillycraft has since assured me is 
a very lucky omen. Even Master Simon had 
lost his usual vivacity, and had assumed a most 
whimsically solemn face, which he is apt to 
do on all occasions of ceremony. He had much 
whispering with the parson and parish-clerk, 
for he is always a busy personage in the scene; 
and he echoed the clerk's amen with a solem- 
nity and devotion that edified the whole assem- 
blage. 

The moment, however, that the ceremony 
was over, the transition was magical. The 
bride-cup was passed round, according to 
ancient usage, for the company to drink to a 
happy union; everyone's feelings seemed to 
break forth from restraint ; Master Simon had 
a world of bachelor pleasantries to utter, and 
as to the gallant general, he bowed and cooed 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 193 

about the dulcet Lady Lillycraft, like a mighty 
cock pigeon about his dame. 

The villagers gathered in the churchyard to 
cheer the happy couple as they left the church ; 
and the musical tailor had marshalled his 
band, and set up a hideous discord, as the 
blushing and smiling bride passed through 
a lane of honest peasantry to her carriage. 
The children shouted and threw up their hats; 
the bells rung a merry peal that set all the 
crows and rooks flying and cawing about the 
air, and threatened to bring down the battle- 
ments of the old tower; and there was a con- 
tinual popping of rusty fire-locks from every 
part of the neighborhood. 

The prodigal son distinguished himself on 
the occasion, having hoisted a flag on the top 
of the school-house, and kept the village in a 
hubbub from sunrise with the sound of drum, 
and fife, and pandean pipe; in which species 
of music several of his scholars are making 
wonderful proficiency. In his great zeal, how- 
ever, he had nearly done mischief; for, on 
returning from church, the horses of the 
bride's carriage took fright from the discharge 
of a row of old gun-barrels, which he had 
mounted as a park of artillery in front of the 
school-house, to give the captain a military 
salute as he passed. 

The day passed off with great rustic rejoic- 
ings. Tables were spread under the trees in 
the park, where all the peasantry of the neigh- 
borhood were regaled with roast beef and 
plum-pudding, and oceans of ale. Ready- 

13 Bracebridge 



194 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

Money Jack presided at one of the tables, and 
became so full of good cheer, as to unbend 
from his usual gravity, to sing a song out of 
all tune, and give two or three shouts of 
laughter, that almost electrified his neighbors, 
like so many peals of thunder. The school- 
master and the apothecary vied with each other 
in making speeches over their liquor; and 
there were occasional glees and musical per- 
formances by the village band, that must have 
frightened every faun and dryad from the 
park. Even old Christy, who had got on a new 
dress, from top to toe, and shone in all the 
splendor of bright leather breeches, and an 
enormous wedding favor in his cap, forgot 
his usual crustiness, became inspired by wine 
and wassail, and absolutely danced a hornpipe 
on one of the tables, with all the grace and 
agility of a mannikin hung upon wires. 

Equal gayety reigned within doors, where a 
large party of friends were entertained. Every 
one laughed at his own pleasantry, without 
attending to that of his neighbors. Loads of 
bridecake were distributed. The young ladies 
were all busy in passing morsels of it through 
the wedding ring to dream on, and I myself 
assisted a fine little boarding-school girl in 
putting up a quantity for her companions, 
which I have no doubt will set all the little 
heads in the school gadding, for a week at 
least. 

After dinner all the company, great and 
small, gentle and simple, abandoned them- 
selves to the dance : not the modern quadrille, 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 195 

with its graceful gravity, but the merry, 
social, old country dance; the true dance, as 
the squire says, for a wedding occasion ; as it 
sets all the world jigging in couples, hand in 
hand, and makes every eye and every heart 
dance merrily to the music. According to 
frank old usage, the gentlefolks of the Hall 
mingled, for a time, in the dance of the peas- 
antry, who had a great tent erected for a ball- 
room; and I think I never saw Master Simon 
more in his element than when figuring about 
among his rustic admirers, as master of the 
ceremonies, and, with a mingled air of pro- 
tection and gallantry, leading out the quan- 
dom Queen of May — all blushing at the signal 
honor conferred upon her. 

In the evening, the whole village was illu- 
minated, excepting the house of the radical, 
who has not shown his face during the rejoic- 
ings. There was a display of fireworks at the 
school- house, got up by the prodigal son, 
which had wellnigh set fire to the building. 
The squire is so much pleased with the extra- 
ordinary services of this last-mentioned worthy 
that he talks of enrolling him in his list of 
valuable retainers, and promoting him to some 
important post on the estate ; peradventure to 
be falconer, if the hawks can ever be brought 
into proper training. 

There is a well-known old proverb that says, 
**one wedding makes many" — or something 
to the same purpose ; and I should not be sur- 
prised if it holds good in the present instance. 
I have seen several flirtations among the 



196 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

young people that have been brought together 
on this occasion ; and a great deal of strolling 
about in pairs, among the retired walks and 
blossoming shrubberies of the old garden; 
and if groves were really given to whispering, 
as poets would fain make us believe, Heaven 
knows what love-tales the grave-looking old 
trees about this venerable country-seat might 
blab to the world. The general, too, has 
waxed very zealous in his devotions within 
the last few days, as the time of her ladyship's 
departure approaches. I observed him cast- 
ing many a tender look at her during the 
wedding dinner, while the courses were chang- 
ing; though he was always liable to be inter- 
rupted in his adoration by the appearance of 
any new delicacy. The general, in fact, has 
arrived at that time of life when the heart and 
the stomach maintain a kind of balance of 
power ; and when a man is apt to be perplexed 
in his affections between a fine woman and a 
truffled turkey. Her ladyship was certainly 
rivaled through the whole of the first course 
by a dish of stewed carp; and there was one 
glance, which was evidently intended to be a 
point-blank shot at her heart, and could scarce- 
ly have failed to effect a practicable breach, 
had it not unluckily been diverted away to a 
tempting breast of lamb, in which it imme- 
diately produced a formidable incision. 

Thus did the faithless general go on, coquet- 
ting during the whole dinner, and committing 
an infidelity with every new dish; until, in 
the end, he was so overpowered by the atten- 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 197 

tions he had paid to fish, flesh, and fowl ; to 
pastry, jelly, cream, and blancmange, that he 
seemed to sink within himself: his eyes swam 
beneath their lids, and their fire was so much 
slackened, that he could no longer discharge 
a single glance that would reach across the 
table. Upon the whole, I fear the general ate 
himself into as much disgrace, at this mem- 
orable dinner, as I have seen him sleep himself 
into on a former occasion. 

I am told, moreover, that young Jack Tib- 
bets was so touched by the wedding ceremony, 
at which he was present, and so captivated by 
the sensibility of poor Phoebe Wilkins, who 
certainly looked all the better for her tears, 
that he had a reconciliation wi'th her that very 
day, after dinner, in one of the groves of the 
park, and danced with her in the evening, to 
the complete confusion of all Dame Tibbets's 
domestic politics. I met them w^alking 
together in the park, shortly after the recon- 
ciliation must have taken place. Young Jack 
carried himself gayly and manfully; but 
Phoebe hung her head, blushing, as I ap- 
proached. However, just as she passed me, 
and dropped a curtsey, I caught a shy gleam of 
her eye from under her bonnet; but it was 
immediately cast down again. I saw enough 
in that single gleam, and in the involuntary 
smile that dimpled about her rosy lips, to feel 
satisfied that the little gypsy's heart was 
happy again. 

What is more. Lady Lillycraft, with her 
usual benevolence and zeal in all matters of 



198 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

this tender nature, on hearing of the rec- 
onciliation of the lovers, undertook the crit- 
ical task of breaking the matter to Ready- 
Money Jack. She thought there was no time 
like the present, and attacked the sturdy old 
yeoman that very evening in the park, while 
his heart was yet lifted up with the squire's 
good cheer. Jack was a little surprised at 
being drawn aside by her ladyship, but was not 
to be flurried by such an honor: he was still 
more surprised by the nature of her commu- 
nication, and by this first intelligence of an 
affair that had been passing under his eye. 
He listened, however, with his usual gravity, 
as her ladyship represented the advantages of 
the match, the good qualities of the girl, and 
the distress which she had lately suffered; at 
length his eye began to kindle, and his hand 
to play with the head of his cudgel. Lady 
Lillycraft saw that something in the narrative 
had gone wrong, and hastened to mollify his 
rising her by reiterating the soft-hearted 
Phoebe's merit and fidelity, and her great 
unhappiness, when old Ready-Money suddenly 
interrupted her by exclaiming, that if Jack did 
not marn/ the wench, he'd break every bone 
in his body! The match, therefore, is con- 
sidered a settled thing; Dame Tibbets and the 
housekeeper have made friends, and drank tea 
together; and Phoebe has again recovered her 
good looks and good spirits, and is carolling 
from morning till night like a lark. 

But the most whimsical caprice of cupid is 
one that I should be almost afraid to mention, 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 199 

did I not know that I was writing for readers 
well acquainted in the waywardness of this 
most mischievous deity. The morning after 
the wedding, therefore, while Lady Lillycraft 
was making preparations for her departure, 
an audience was requested by her immaculate 
handmaid, Mrs. Hannah, who, with much 
priming of the mouth, and many maidenly 
hesitations, requested leave to stay behind, 
and that Lady Lillycraft would supply her 
place with some other servant. Her ladyship 
was astonished: "What! Hannah going to 
quit her, that had lived with her so long!" 

**Why, one could not help it; one must settle 
in life some time or other. ' ' 

The good lady was still lost in amazement; 
at length the secret was gasped from the dry 
lips of the maiden gentlewoman; "she had 
been some time thinking of changing her con- 
dition, and at length had given her word, last 
evening, to Mr. Christy, the huntsman. ' ' 

How, or when, or where this singular court- 
ship had been carried on, I have not been able 
to learn ; nor how she has been able, with the 
vinegar of her disposition, to soften the stony 
heart of old Nimrod ; so, however, it is, and 
it has astonished every one. With all her 
ladyship's love of matchmaking, this last fume 
of Hymen's torch has been too much for her. 
She has endeavored to reason with Mrs, Han- 
nah, but all in vain; her mind was made up, 
and she grew tart on the least contradiction. 
Lady Lillycraft applied to the squire for his 
interference. "She did not know what she 



200 BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 

should do without Mrs. Hannah, she had been 
used to have her about her so long a time." 

The squire, on the contrary, rejoiced in the 
match, as relieving the good lady from a kind 
of toilet-tyrant, under whose sway she had 
suffered for years. Instead of thwarting the 
affair, therefore, he has given it his full coun- 
tenance ; and declares that he will set up the 
young couple in one of the best cottages on 
his estate. The approbation of the squire 
has been followed by that of the whole house- 
hold; they all declare, that if ever matches are 
really made in heaven, this must have been; 
for that old Christy and Mrs. Hannah were as 
evidently formed to be linked together as ever 
were pepper-box and vinegar-cruet. 

As soon as this matter was arranged, Lady 
Lillycraft took her leave of the family at the 
Hall; taking with her the captain and his 
blushing bride, who are to pass the honey- 
moon with her. Master Simon accompanied 
them on horseback, and indeed means to ride 
on ahead to make preparations. The general, 
who was fishing in vain for an invitation to her 
seat, handed her ladyship into her carriage 
with a heavy sigh; upon which his bosom 
friend, Master Simon, who was just mounting 
his horse, gave me a knowing wink, made an 
abominably wry face, and, leaning from his 
saddle, whispered loudly in my ear, "It won't 
do I" Then putting spurs to his horse, away 
he cantered off. The general stood for some 
time waving his hat after the carriage as it 
rolled down the avenue, until he was seized 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL. 201 

with a fit of sneezing, from exposing his head 
to the cool breeze. I observed that he returned 
rather thoughtfully to the house; whistling 
thoughtfully to himself, with his hands behind 
his back, and an exceedingly dubious air. 

The company have now almost all taken 
their departure. I have determined to do the 
same to-morrow morning; and I hope my 
reader may not think that I have already 
lingered too long at the Hall. I have been 
tempted to do so, however, because I thought 
I had lit upon one of the retired places where 
there are yet some traces to be met with of 
old English character. A little while hence, 
and all these will probably have passed away. 
Ready-Money Jack will sleep with his fathers : 
the good squire, and all his peculiarities, will 
be buried in the neighboring church. The 
old Hall will be modernized into a fashionable 
country-seat, or, peradventure, a manufactory. 

The park will be cut up into petty farms and 
kitchen-gardens. A daily coach will run 
through the village; it will become, like all 
other commonplace villages, thronged with 
coachmen, post-boys, tipplers, and politicians; 
and Christmas, May-day, and all the other 
hearty merry-makings of the "good old times, " 
will be forgotten. 



THE END. 



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